


Revelation

by halfbloodhood



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anger, Apocalypse, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Loss, Flashbacks, Fluff, Inspired by The Walking Dead, JDM, Jeffrey Dean Morgan - Freeform, Mentions of Rape, Negan (Walking Dead) Being an Asshole, Negan (Walking Dead) Swears, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Possessive Negan (Walking Dead), Pre-Alexandria Safe-Zone, Pre-All Out War, Protective Negan (Walking Dead), Romance, Sexy Negan (Walking Dead), Slow Burn, Sweet Negan (Walking Dead), Widow, Zombie Apocalypse, multi chapter fic, pre-Sanctuary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:33:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 38,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfbloodhood/pseuds/halfbloodhood
Summary: In which a man and a woman find themselves together during the midst of a zombie apocalypse. Negan before the well-established home he called the Sanctuary was still the same old Negan. Brutal, vulgar, and a bit of an asshole. When he saves the life of a widowed woman, he takes her back home, and there, Carolina learns about Negan, his past, and who he truly is. But, as tension rises during this apocalypse, the psychotic and sadistic Negan we all know and love troubles Carolina. The man she learned to love is not the man she sees in front of her anymore.PRE-ALL OUT WARPRE-SANCTUARY NEGAN





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ‘Revelation’ moodboards https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.16.2017

**DEATH WAS SOMETHING** I had grown too accustomed to in the past few years of my life. It came quickly, unexpectedly, but it was also a familiar friend. It was right around the corner, lurking in the dark and watching you when you had your back turned. Death walked slowly, dragging its rotting limbs. It roamed here in this world, and it was almost always too hard to escape from. It was those who I had once known to be beautiful, lively, warm souls. Death consumed every living, breathing thing, and implanted nightmares of teeth tearing through flesh into my tired head.

The dreams prevented me from sleeping quite frequently. Sleep and I used to be wonderful friends, back when the world was once whole. Now, quiet grunts and monotonous moans echoed throughout my head, floated throughout the air, pierced through my ears so loudly that I could never bear it. Sleep and I were strangers, more now than ever.

My boot pressed into the soft chest of the rotting body as I forcefully pulled back on my weapon, removing the sharpened point out its head. I watched as my boot sank deeper into its chest, and I quickly removed myself from the biter. It's heavy head snapped back onto the pavement of the road, finally lying still. I rolled the dead creature onto its side, continuing on my way up the deserted street.

"I guess business is slow, today," I mumbled quietly, eyes raking over each storefront as I passed along. A breathy laugh tumbled its way through my lips and I shook my head. The glass windows were blown out, smashed in, from other looters and scavengers making their way through the town in order to find supplies and food for themselves and their families. The dead littered the street, bullet holes in their bodies, through street signs, puncturing through the walls of the buildings. There must had been a standoff, how long ago I was unsure of.

My stomach growled loudly as I stepped over old shell casings. I didn't know what time it was, all I knew was that it was very late in the evening as the sun began to set over the quiet horizon. Dead leaves tumbled against the side walk. It was fall. Back when the world was still alive, fall was my favorite time of the year. So much, that I nearly turned into a pumpkin. Our home in northern Virginia was filled with a constant warmth from the fireplace in the living room. Orange, brown, and red autumn decorations were hung and places in each and every room, and the kids usually came home with about a thousand art projects based on Thanksgiving. Turkey-hands decorated the kitchen and refrigerator. Fall was their favorite time of year, too.

The remembrance of the happy times of my life made the hard times ever harder. I had been alone for a long time, and each day, that loneliness intensified, and the hole in my chest stretched wide open. I hadn't seen a friendly face in years. I hadn't seen the face of a creature who didn't want to eat me alive. Was I looking in the wrong spots? Or was everyone in the state of Virginia, everyone in the United States dead? Was I even still in Virginia?

When I reached the corner of the street, I knelt down on the sidewalk and pulled my backpack off, setting it down in front of me. I rummaged through the few items I had; a dull pocketknife, a broken compass, my compass, and an old package of Ritz crackers. I had not eaten in about four days; of course, it wasn't the longest I had gone without food, but my stomach ached from emptiness. I had been saving the crackers for a time when I needed them the most, when I was really running the lowest on food. My fingers itched to reach for the package, to tear open the plastic and eat what was inside. I was close to doing so before a rustle in the trees caught my attention. My eyes skimmed over the trees and bushes closely, keeping out for any form of life. Most of the time, it was a biter or two. But, occasionally, a deer would trot by, or a rabbit would scurry along into the wood. Two biters emerged from the trees, and I quickly zipped my backpack up, grabbed my broomstick-handle-turned weapon, and ran.

Later that night, I sat against the window of a room high up above one of the looted grocery stores, and watched the two dead creatures wander about the road. I was put to sleep by the sound of owls calling in the trees, and the wind softly brushing through their branches.

∧∨∧

I was shaken from my deep sleep when loud groans filled my ears. My body jolted upright and my eyes snapped open, as I whipped my head around and rose to my knees to peer out the window. A sea of rotting, grey flesh met my eyes. There were dozens of them, searching for food and bumping into one another as they mindlessly navigated their way around the town's main street.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." My voice cracked as I blindly reached for my backpack and my stick in the dark.

The doors to the store downstairs began to shake and rattle on their hinges as the dead banged against them harshly. If I was unable to make an escape through the front doors, I would have no way of getting out. Another window in the room caught my eye, one that looked out into a tight alleyway. I found my legs carrying me to the window and I ripped the curtains away before unlocking it and sliding the wooden frame up. Biters roamed the area between the two buildings. I would have no choice but to take a risk and hope that I made it to the other side without killing myself.

Gaining as much strength as I could, I pulled my body up through the window, and said a prayer before hurling myself forward. My arms reached out as far as I could as I reached for the building in front of me. But as my fingertips barely grazed the concrete roof in front of me, I realized I was too far away. My body slipped against the side of the building and I went falling into the alley, with dozens of biters down below.

My body landed hard on the pavement, and a scream escaped my lips as pain shot up my back and down my left arm. I frantically reached for my butterfly knife at my waistband as I kicked and kicked, trying to get the dead away from me. Blood and flesh dripped from their lips as they clawed at my legs and arms. I lunged up as much as I could in order to fend them off, my knife slashing wildly in front of me. I eventually was able to drag my body up, but I could not do so without screaming at the pain my left shoulder brought me. I was on fire, I was almost sure of it. Grabbing my shoulder with my knife-clad hand, I bolted out of the alley, dodging biter after biter as they turned themselves around to roam after me.

When I made it out to the main street, I realized that I wasn't out of the dark. There were tens of them, maybe even fifty. How had a herd gotten so close and I didn't even realize it? The town was cleared out only hours ago, and here I was struggling to keep myself alive.

Tears ran down my cheeks as I continued to fight off the dead. I stabbed repeatedly, lodging the blade of my knife into their skulls, and then quickly pulling it back out, all the while my shoulder continued to blaze pain down my back and arm. At one point, I could no longer keep up my speed, and the dead were backing me up against a building. Their teeth snapped together loudly in the cold, quiet autumn air. My lungs burned from the exhaustion of fighting them off.

Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching rang through the air, and bright headlights filled the environment. The door of an old, black Suburban swung open, but the person getting out of it, I could not identify. My arms frantically pushed at the biters on top of me as the person neared closer. Then, the biters were taken out, one by one, all taking blows to the head from a dirtied baseball bat. When they fell to the ground, the person was revealed. A man. His dark, sweaty hair glistened in the moonlight, and blood splattered his salt and pepper beard. His eyes quickly searched mine, and he was reaching out to me, grabbing my right arm with haste.

"Come the fuck on!" He shouted loud over the roar of the rest of the herd closing in on us. I was completely frozen in place, shocked at the sight of another human being, another live human being standing in front of me. Talking, breathing, defending... I blinked slowly, the tears continuing to slide down my cheeks. The man let out a deep sigh and wrapped his arm around my body, pulling me away from the side of the brick building and rushing me to the car.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.16.2017
> 
> ‘Revelation’ moodboards https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**HE HAD PRACTICALLY** thrown me into the passenger seat before he hopped in and took off, driving through the herd of biters and speeding out of the town. The smell of stale cigarettes filled my nostrils as I slowly came to my senses.

"What in the holy hell were you doing out there in that?" His voice was rough and gravely. My eyebrows knit together in confusion, still unsure about the situation. Who was this man, where was he from, and why was he there to save my life?

"H-How did you find me?" I asked quietly, voice breaking from exhaustion. My left shoulder ached and burned, and my skin crawled with the memory of the dead clawing at me.

"I was driving down this road here when I heard your screaming," he confirmed slowly, glancing over at me with wary eyes. "You sure picked a damn shitty place to spend the night, sweetheart."

"I didn't know that I was going to be caught up in that," I defended, my eyes shooting him daggers. "I checked the perimeter of the town beforehand, I made sure I was safe before going to sleep."

"And that's exactly why you shouldn't sleep during all of this." He said. "Not without someone else there to keep watch for you."

I let out a scoff. "Who the fuck are you?" I questioned, turning my body enough to face him.

The man let out a satisfied laugh and shook his head slowly, letting out a low whistle. "Damn, I like you already. I'm Negan." He glanced at me before turning back to the road.

"Negan," I repeated. It was odd for me, having a conversation with another human being, especially since it had been so long since I had one. So odd for me, in fact, that I completely brushed off this asshole's attitude.

"And what's your name, sweetpea?" He asked, sending me a small smirk. Negan came to a stop sign at the end of the long road before turning left. I had no idea where we were, and I had no idea where we were going.

"Carolina," I told him cautiously. "Where are you taking me?" Come to think of it, I had no idea who this person was. Was he part of a group? What was his intentions, was he going to kill me? Eat me? I hoped to god he wasn't like this group of cannibals I once found myself in the presence of.

One of his hands gripped the steering wheel while the other brushed his hair back against his head. "I've got a camp about a hundred miles west of here."

"And you're taking me there? You don't even know if I have my own. I could have a group, a f-family..."

"You don't."

My eyes dropped to my hands in my lap. Blood smeared across them, and I had just realized that my palms were scraped up, dirt caked into the wounds. I winced and turned back to Negan. His eyes met mine momentarily before flittering back to the road.

"How many of you are there?" I questioned.

His fingers thrummed against the steering wheel. "Hmm, about twenty of us. We've got some kids, real little ones, too. A nurse, a doctor—"

"—Kids? How old?" I wasn't interested in the doctor, or the nurse. My heart hurt at the thought of seeing young children being raised during such a gruesome, terrible time.

"The youngest we've got is a two year old," he mumbled and let out a small sigh. Two years old? Who in God's name was having children during an apocalypse? I hadn't seen children in so long, not since my own two. Only God knew where they were now. I was clueless.

"Is your camp stable? How long have you been there? You're not going to kill me, are you?" Questions rushed from my lips as I watched him closely.

Negan let out a laugh and shook his head. "No, sweetheart, I ain't gonna kill ya." He chuckled and pat my leg momentarily.

"And how am I supposed to trust you?" My scraped up hands went to touch at the barbed wire baseball bat leaning against the center console. Anger flashed across Negan's face and he quickly shoved my hands away.

"Do not touch!" He snapped, and I nearly jumped at the sudden change of his voice. His face was hard and cold and he looked as if he wanted to scream at me. I pulled my hands back into my lap and shifted my legs away from the space surrounding the weapon.

A heavy sigh fell from Negan's lips as he brought himself back down from his few seconds of rage. "I'm not gonna to kill you. I don't want to kill you. If you give me a reason to... then, well, we'll see what happens then." A wide grin slipped onto his lips.

We drove for what felt like eternity. My shoulder continued to ache and the palms of my hands throbbed in pain. Sleep never came. I was in the car with a complete stranger, letting him drive me back to his camp, to a place I did not know. The feeling of another body next to mine was so foreign that I could not close my eyes and rest. Eventually, Negan began to slow down the car, and we pulled off onto the side of the road along the tree line of the woods.

"There's an old cabin not too far back here," He told me when I gave him an unsure look. "It's late and we both need some sleep. You especially. Just keep up with me and you'll be fine." Negan shut off the Suburban and grabbed his bat. He got out of the car and shrugged on a black leather jacket before coming around and helping me out of my position.

I winced in pain and sucked in a sharp breath as he partially lifted me out of the passengers seat. "Easy there, sweetheart. The fuck did you do to yourself?" He asked as we began to walk into the dark wood. A chill ran up my spine as I listened for biters, but none seemed to be near.

"I fell out of a window... I was trying to jump from one building to another, but I couldn't make it. Obviously." I mumbled quietly.

Negan whistled out through his teeth and smiled. "Damn, I like you. You're a pretty little daredevil." His grip on my waist as he helped me walk through the woods tightened momentarily before his fingers relaxed against my hip again. I kept my head down, watching as we stepped over fallen branches, piles of leaves, rotting logs.

After about fifteen minutes of walking, the shape of a log cabin came into sight, and I stared at it in disbelief. It looked nearly perfect, as if after all these years, it had gone untouched. Negan stood outside of the cabin door for a moment, listening out for anything or anyone that could possibly have made their way in. He turned the knob and walked us both in, then shut the door.

The place was slightly messy, pieces of furniture backed against windows. A couch sat in the middle of the room with old blankets and pillows, the place was quire dusty. I stood in the living room, holding my injured arm carefully as I took in my surroundings. Negan went over to a shelf and knelt down, rummaging around before standing back up with a water bottle. He pulled a rag from his back pocket and dampened it with the water.

"Gimme your hands, doll." Negan turned to me and reached out, taking my scraped-up hands in his. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip to stop myself from hissing out in pain.

"You're being way too nice to a stranger right now," I told him.

Negan smirked and shook his head. "I saved your ass, sweetheart. Don't expect too much more from me before I start expecting something from you."

I scoffed. "You saved my life, you're taking me back to your camp. I'm not sure what I can do to surpass that kindness."

"I ain't kind, and I ain't a nice guy." Negan smiled, but there was a hint of sadness, maybe even guilt behind it. There was something about him I was misreading. He wasn't naturally the person he made himself seem to be.

"You seem pretty nice to me," I shrugged and pulled my hands away from his when he finished cleaning my cuts out.

"Trust me, doll, you don't know shit yet."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.16.2017
> 
> ‘Revelation’ moodboards https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**NEGAN'S SOFT SNORES** woke me the next day. During the night I had taken the dusty couch as my bed, and he situated himself on the floor next to me. An old pillow was stuffed under his head, and his black leather jacket draped across the top of his body as a blanket. His barbed wire bat laid on the floor next to him, within his reach. It was extremely clean now, as opposed to how it was last night. Before we slept, he removed the blood, brains, and rotting skin from the spiked metal, then scrubbed the wood clean with rubbing alcohol. He seemed to care for the weapon, more than anyone else should.

A million thoughts bounced around inside my skull as I laid on the cushions above Negan. What the hell was I doing here? How did I get here? Twenty four hours ago, I was wandering about this small town, on my own, completely alone. I was so accustomed to doing everything on my own. For the past few years, not too far into the start of all of this, I was without a group, a partner. After my family disappeared, I decided against relying on anyone else for my safety and protection. I didn't need this Negan. I didn't need to be apart of his group.

I slid the heavy blanket off of me slowly and sat up cautiously, wincing in pain at my aching shoulder and arm. I stood up from my position on the couch and navigated my way around Negan, who was still sleeping soundly. I could leave this cabin, get away without him knowing. I scooped up my backpack and quickly walked over to the shelves that Negan once retrieved the bottled water from. I took as much as I could from the shelf, almost took everything, but a part of me knew that I couldn't leave Negan without anything. Yes, he had a camp, but I didn't know how long he would be staying here and how much he actually had.

I zipped up my backpack and stood, turning to go and collect my knife, but a heavy and harsh voice stopped me.

"What the fuck do you think you're fucking doing?" Negan's voice boomed from behind me. My body flinched at the intensity of his voice, and my face fell.

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

Slowly turning around, I spotted Negan standing there, hair disheveled from sleep, his bat held tightly in his hand. I couldn't speak a word, what excuse could I possibly have for this? One second I was accepting his help and appreciating his kind actions. The next second, I was turning on my savior and stealing his water and supplies. I was going to leave him without a word.

"I can't fucking believe what I'm fucking seeing right now. I fucking saved your god damn life, sweetheart, and this is what you do?" He let out a sadistic laugh. "Turn your fucking back and me and steal my shit?" I couldn't tell what was scarier. The deadly weapon in his hand, or his voice laced with humor.

"I-It's not like that, I promise—"

"—What the fuck was it like, then? You're stealing my shit, you're stealing my shit while I sleep. What does that fucking look like to you?" His hand tightened on his bat and I saw him raise it, pointing it directly at me. I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a shaky breath.

What the fuck was I doing?

"Negan, I'm sorry—"

"—Sorry don't fucking cut it, doll!"

I threw my backpack down forcefully, looking up at the bat raised to my face. "I'm fucking sorry, you asshole!" My throat stung as I screamed. Tears instantly filled my eyes, and Negan's face fell so quickly. He stared at me in disbelief. My outburst had startled him, and it was obvious that this man wasn't used to people talking back to him.

It was quiet for what felt like forever. Negan eventually lowered the bat and walked over to the couch, taking a seat.

"If you don't want my help, then leave. I don't need to take in a fucking thief, I don't need to take in someone that doesn't want refuge." Negan grew calm and reached onto the floor to retrieve his black leather jacket and gloves. He shrugged the jacket on, zipped it up, and slid the matching gloves onto his hands.

"I don't want your help." I mumbled.

"Open your fucking ears, sweetheart. Leave." He raised his voice. "You don't deserve what I've got back at home."

Home. I hadn't heard that word in what felt like an eternity. A home was supposed to be warm, loving, safe. A place where you could go and live forever in happiness. Was Negan's camp really that worthy to be called a home? He had a group of over twenty people, with children, doctors and nurses, twenty people. The idea seemed too perfect to be real. Maybe I did need to see it to believe it.

"It's been years since I've been around... people. I'm not used to living life with others anymore." I spoke quietly, tucking my long brown hair behind my ear. "I'm sorry I did what I did. I freaked out, I panicked... I don't think I'm ready to do this." I kept my eyes away from his. I was too nervous to look at Negan, afraid that he would yell again, or threaten me with his bat. Chills ran down my spine at the events that occurred seconds ago. I never wanted to see that bat in my face ever again.

"Who did you lose in your life that fucked you up so badly?" Negan asked, standing again from his spot on the dusty old couch. He didn't really want to know, did he? It hurt my head every time I thought about my loved ones for just a split second.

"Everyone. My husband, my kids, my siblings, my parents. I've either watched them all die, or I've been separated from them. And if I have no idea where they are, I can only assume for them to be dead. No one survives here, Negan, ever." My voice was stronger now. "I have no idea how I've made it this fucking far, all on my own. But I have, and to be honest, I'm fucking terrified of the thought of living and getting along with others, relying on them to live and survive. How am I supposed to know that you people won't let me down?"

Negan thought for a while. I could see it in his face as he waited long and hard to find the right words to say. Instead of speaking right away, he walked towards me and placed his hands against my upper arms, minding the injured side of my body. It was odd watching him go from nearly swinging his bat across my face, to gently holding the sides of my body in front of him.

"Sweetheart, if you stick with me, I swear to God I won't let you down. You can trust me, and the people I'm with. Fuck, I've got nearly twenty followers, I've kept them safe for a long while. Just trust me. Carolina, let me take you there, and I promise you won't fucking regret it."

My eyes roamed over Negan's face. He slightly smiled behind that salt and pepper beard and mustache, and his brown eyes softened when mine met his. He was a tough guy, I could see that written deep within him. But I knew it was mostly just an act. He was an asshole, a tough, hard, rigid asshole. He was trusting, though. That was extremely evident, as was the fact that he seemed to care about others.

My lips twitched up in a tiny, tired smile."Okay. But you better not point that bat in my face ever again, you hear me?"

Negan let out a laugh and nodded his head. "Loud and clear, doll. Loud and fucking clear."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.16.2017
> 
> ‘Revelation’ moodboards https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**THE SUN WARMED** my face, heating up my skin and making me content as I watched the trees pass by through the passenger window. Negan lounged in the driver's seat, one hand on the steering wheel as he drove down the long interstate highway. Every now and then, my eyes would drift over to him. His black leather jacket was unzipped, hanging open lazily and exposing a surprisingly clean white t-shirt. His belt hung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers on show. He looked so relaxed, so calm, I was unable to peel my eyes away from him.

Negan seemed to be in his mid forties, most likely ten or so years old than I. And an aspect that I was able to notice within the first second of meeting him, was that he was extremely attractive. His scruffy face held a sense of so much experience, like he had been through a lot, seen a lot. The slight wrinkles by his eyes depicted stress in his life, and I began to wonder what this man's life story was. Where had he been, who had he seen, what had he done?

"Take a fucking picture, doll. It'll last much longer." A chuckle rumbled in his chest and my cheeks blushed a deep pink. I didn't look away, though. I only smiled and let out a nervous laugh, shaking my head.

"Sorry, I don't get to look at live human beings much, anymore," was my excuse, even though I knew, and most likely he did too, that I was openly checking him out. It never hurt to do so. I was only looking.

"Don't you worry, you'll have plenty to look at when we get back to the Sanctuary. Although, I quite fucking enjoy your pretty little eyes checking me out." Negan bit his lip, smirking at me, which caused my to blush even harder. His choice of words made my stomach do flips. It had been years since anyone had spoken to me like he did.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you mentioned having a husband?" He asked, instantly changing the mood of the conversation. Negan spoke cautiously, he knew this was going to be a touchy subject. Why was he doing this right now? Right when I was in his car, with no possible escape? Negan must have noticed the change in my behavior. "Don't mean to put you right on the spot like that, I was just trying to make a little convo."

"No," I shook my head. "It's fine. I know you're not trying to upset me or anything." I took a deeper breath before speaking again. "Yes, I have—had—a husband. Anthony. We married too young, right out of high school. It complicated a lot of things, and we had our faults and arguments, but we loved each other to death." I told Negan slowly, looking down at my lap and paying with a frayed hole in the leg of my jeans.

"I assume he..."

I nodded. "Yep. Right in front of me and our kids. He didn't even last a week after all of this shit started." I sighed and glanced at Negan.

"You have kids?" The tone of his voice was full of so much interest, now. There was now hostility behind it, no humor, just pure curiosity. Negan watched the road, but I knew he was paying attention to my each and every word.

"Two of them. Allison and Carter." I grinned at the thought of them, then let out a small laugh. "Anthony and I named them so that we'd have two A names and two C names. Anthony, Allison, Carolina and Carter. God, I miss them."

"I bet they were great kids." Negan told me with a sad smile. "How old?"

"Oh God, they were incredible. Allison would be twelve, Carter would be ten." I smiled and tucked my hair behind my ear. "I was very young when I had them, barely out of college when I found out I was pregnant with Ally." I found it devastating how openly I was talking about my children, and how fine I seemed. I didn't know if they were dead, and even if they were, I was speaking about them as if they were alive and well. Like I would be seeing them later on today.

"I graduated from college when I was twenty one. I was a nursing major, but I couldn't get a job right after getting my degree. So I was a stay-at-home mom for the first few years of Allison and Carter's lives. And then I started working at a hospital in Richmond, God, I made great money." I had no idea where this sudden burst of energy came from. This sudden explosion of confidence. Negan hadn't asked about my life prior to the outbreak, but here I was, rambling on and on and on for his poor ears to hear. "I wish I was able to be in their lives more. I worked so much, so did Anthony. He was a paid firefighter for Richmond and usually was never home at night. Anyways—" I stopped short as Negan began laughing. "Why the fuck are you laughing?"

Negan shrugged and smiled over at me. "Just picturing your cute little ass as a nurse, that's all."

I sighed and shook my head. "Then tell me about your life. What did you do before all of this happened?" I asked him and turned in my seat to face him, which wasn't a great idea because my shoulder began to ache once again.

"Jesus sweetpea, you don't wanna know about my fucking life."

"Untrue. You saved my life, I could have died the other night but I didn't. You saved my life." I pressed. "Also, I just told you a whole bunch of shit about mine." I reached out and nudged his arm. He tried to hide his smile, tried to hold it in, but he couldn't.

"My life was fucking lame before all of this shit happened." He started off. "Believe it or not, I was a high school gym teacher. I loved my job, to be fucking honest. I liked being sort of a role model for young kids, tried to teach them how to not fuck up their lives. Then I sold used cars as a side job, when school wasn't in session and shit. Damn, I was a great fucking salesman. I'm persuasive as shit."

I smiled, trying to picture Negan in sweatpants or running shorts, holding a clip board and calling out attendance in a high school gymnasium. The image was nearly impossible to create. I couldn't see this man as a gym teacher at all. I imagined his profanity and hard demeanor would send the boys and girls running crying to the locker rooms.

"Do you have your family back at the camp with you?" I asked him, and the casual, comfortable expression disappeared from his face. His eyes flickered to the barbed wire baseball bat propped against the front seat between us.

"I got no fucking family. Just myself. That's how it's always been, that's how it always will be." He stated, voice hard and harsh.

I frowned and nodded cautiously. "That's not true. Maybe you've got a friend, now." I nudged his arm positively, trying to break the angry, cold spell that washed over him. For a second, his face relaxed, and his eyes locked with mine. They were filled with wonder, possibly even some type of relief.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Maybe I do."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.17.2017
> 
> ‘Revelation’ moodboards https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

_**THE EMERGENCY ROOM** at Bon Secours Memorial Regional Medical Center was completely fucking chaotic. Patients came in groups through the doors. They were pale, shaking, sweating, but complained they were cold at the same time. It would have been easily mistaken for a severe case of the flu, if it weren't for the painfully obvious aspect of these cases; each victim had been bitten. Bitten by another human. Someone who went crazy, their eyes glazed over, dead. It started outside of Virginia, but quickly made its way into each and every single community. It was atrocious.  
_

_My heart pounded as I stood at the nurses' desk in the emergency room. I wasn't used to working in this part of the hospital, for I was regularly stationed as an ICU nurse up on the third floor. But, because of the insane amount of patients coming in with this same problem, the emergency room needed as many hands as physically possible._

_Each patient looked dead. And they were. Dying, that is. Stretcher upon stretcher lined the hallways, all carrying one patient, maybe two. Many of them were covered with bed sheets. Too many people were dying, and the morgue was already full._

_"Carolina!" The floor supervisor called out, and I jumped, snapping out of my trance. "Put on gloves and a face mask. I need you to help us start moving the dead out of here. We don't have enough room for everyone coming in, and we need to keep the living contained. Are you listening to me?"_

_I quickly nodded my head. "Yeah. I mean, yes. Move the dead out of the emergency room." I confirmed, grabbing two rubber gloves from a box mounted on the wall. I then took out a face mask and situated it over my nose and mouth._

_We were being told to take as many dead patients as possible down to the morgue level. They were opening up extra rooms, more hallways, as much space as possible. My stomach churned as I pushed a hospital bed out of the emergency room and into one of the closest elevators. The body underneath the bed sheet was small, and my heart ached at the thought of it being a child. I knew it was. How old, I was unsure of. But there was no mistaking it. The elevator ride moved painstakingly slow. And I thought I was losing my fucking mind when I saw the bed sheet twitch. I heard an intake of breath, a tiny groan. My hands shook as I reached out and pulled back the sheet, revealing a young girl, maybe the age of ten. Her eyes were glazed back heavily, and when her eyes locked with mine, she began to growl, hiss. Her hands reached for me and I swear to God above, her nails would have popped out like a cat if she was able to do so._

_I let out a scream as she lifted herself from the bed and attacked me. Fingers dug into my scrubs, her mouth foamed with saliva and blood. Her skin was a sickly grey. I tried to hold her back at an arm's length, but she was too strong. Way too strong. When the elevator doors slid open, two hospital security guards rushed forward, shouting, and reaching for the dead, yet very much alive girl. They pried her off of me, but did no good at protecting themselves. The girl latched her mouth onto one of the guards' neck, literally ripping chunks of skin away, exposing hot, red, pulsing tendons and muscle. Warm, thick blood spluttered and began to pour out of the guard's neck, as if someone had switched on a garden hose. So then the second guard quickly removed his gun from his hip, shooting the girl once, twice, three times in the chest. Her actions weren't letting up, she continued to attack and claw and bite at the air. But the forth shot to her forehead silenced her. Her body dropped instantly to the floor of the elevator. It was like a room of red. Like that one eerie scene from The Shining, as an ocean of red blood pours from the opening elevator doors. My body shook as I dripped blood from head to toe._

_Picking up Allison and Carter from school was damn near impossible. Roads were crowded with dozens of cars as people tried rushing home to get to their families. I later learned that these events weren't only happen at Bon Secours Memorial Regional Medical Center. They were happening everywhere. Stores, gas stations, suburbs, apartment buildings. Anywhere that was everywhere was quickly turning to shit. Anthony had called me asking me what was happening, if I was okay. When I told him where I was, nearly twenty minutes away from the kids' school and stuck in traffic, he took out a rescue truck from Station 182's main house and forced his way through traffic. Allison and Carter were safely brought home, and the only thing they were able to speak about was the fact that Daddy took them for a ride in the great red firetruck._

_It was as if all of Richmond, the city, the suburbs, the outskirts, was crumbling to pieces, all within less than a few hours. At first, Anthony and I thought that staying inside would be the best option for our family. But when bodies began knocking against our windows, smearing blood and insanely quickly rotting flesh against the glass, we knew that staying home was unsafe. Anthony had nearly died trying to go outside and killing them. They were our neighbors. An elderly couple, Janice and Frank Lacroix, and their son and two grandchildren. All five of them attacked Anthony. He, fortunately, was able to get away without any scratches, but our whole family was suffering mentally from the events taking place today._

_We had rushed ourselves and our luggage into the rescue truck still parked out on the street across from our house. "Fuck the department!" Anthony yelled as I tried to protest his use of the emergency vehicle. He further told me that using it would guarantee us help, a way out of the city. Safety._

_And so we left. The fire sirens blared loudly as Anthony drove us quickly through our neighborhood. But we later found out that making noise was a very, very bad idea. The loud sounds attracted the walking dead. It alerted them, made them blood thirsty and quickened their pace as they seek out a body to bite._

_The four of us made it a week before bad shit started to happen. We tried making it north to Washington, D.C.. It seemed as if everyone in the whole state of Virginia thought that was a great idea, as well. It was the capital of the United States of America. If the President were safe there, why wouldn't we be? We did make it into the city, just nearly, but the military had began to block off all the roads and major highways. We got stuck on Interstate 395 going north into the city. Traffic had stopped completely, not even emergency vehicles could make it through the cars on the pavement. Not even our rescue truck from Richmond._

_I told Anthony not to get out of the truck. So many times. But that one moment he didn't listen, that one moment he decided his judgement was better than mine, it got him killed. He jumped out of the giant truck to look around, to ask others what was going on, why weren't they fucking letting us into the city?! And the second he jumped out, the second his work boots hit the highway pavement, he was gone. A biter appeared from behind the truck and took his life, ripping skin and muscle away from his chest, feeding on his heart. Our kids had never cried to hard. Neither had I._

_Allison, Carter, and I made it five months together before they were taken from me. We had taken supplies from a looted store, water, canned peaches and cherries. A man who went by the name of the Governor found us, accused us of taking his shit. I paid the price. His group had restrained me as they took my children, then continued by beating the holy hell out of me. When I woke up the neck day in the middle of the abandoned town street, three biters were about ready to rip me apart. I hadn't seen Allison and Carter since then._

∧∨∧

The same events played over and over and over again throughout my mind. Every night, I relived the past 3 years of my life. It was like a terrible fucking case of Groundhog Day. I couldn't escape it, couldn't shut the flashbacks and dreams away. The memory of my husband leaving me, disappearing from my life as biters fed on his body. The memory of me, shielding my children away from the image. The memory of my children hysterically crying in complete and utter terror as their father was ripped away from their lives. The memory of that insane, psychotic man who went by the Governor, snatching my two young children away, while his men beat me, used me, then thew my unconscious body to the cold pavement. All over some bottle of water and a few cans of fruit in syrup.

It had been years, and the memories were as strong as if they happened just yesterday. I prayed to God—if there even was a God in this fucked up world, anymore—that maybe, just maybe, being within human contact would make these memories harder to remember. I prayed that Negan would heal it, that his group and him would help to make me forget. That's all I wanted, was to forget.

I woke up, sweating and shaking, from this overwhelming dream of memories once again. I was disoriented as all hell to be in the back seat of Negan's Suburban. I couldn't remember laying down and going to sleep. The last memory of last night I had, was the two of us sitting inside an old library, so that we could sleep for the night. Negan must have moved me during the night, because we were currently driving. I hesitantly sat up, and felt the cool leather of Negan's jacket draped around me. My stomach flipped as I imagined him carrying me to the car, laying me down, and covering me with it.

"Beautiful fucking morning, sunshine!" Speak of the Devil. Negan peered back at me through the rear view mirror, a shit eating grin plastered onto his face. "Jee-suhs, I thought you'd never wake up. Why don't you climb the fuck up here and give me some company? Our Sanctuary's about an hour away, now."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.18.2017
> 
> ‘Revelation’ moodboards https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**THE SANCTUARY, AS** Negan called the camp, was absolutely incredible. A very large factory building sat in the middle of a tall, fenced perimeter. The building had hundreds of windows, and it was multiple stories tall. My mind was running wild with so many questions.  _How the fuck was this possible? Was it completely clear?_ There was no way that the entire building held no biters, how could only twenty people clear out a property of this magnificent size?

The black Suburban rolled up to a gate in the fence, and Negan reached an arm out the window, his bat in his hand as he banged against the door of the vehicle. A woman rushed forward, holding a large automatic rifle in her hands as she began to open up the gate. She looked nervous, for some unknown reason. Fearful, almost. She stood back as the Suburban began rolling through the gates of the community, and reached into her waistband to speak into a radio. She was alerting someone. The other members of Negan's group?

"This has got to be a joke," I mumbled, eyes searching around the camp. The building towered above us, and as we drove deeper into the community, I realized that it was as wide and spread out as it was tall. The factory building seemed to go on forever.

"Ain't she a sight for sore eyes?" Negan grinned and pulled up against the side of the building, near an entrance that used to be a loading dock. A man stood at the door of the entrance with another automatic weapon. He eyed me through the windshield of the Suburban, shooting me daggers.

"It's safe?" I questioned as he hopped out of the  driver's seat. I hesitantly followed suit, taking in my surroundings and watching the man with the gun at the doors. Fuck.

"The safest fucking place you could ever be, sweetheart." He rested his bat against his shoulder and placed a hand at the small of my back, leading me up the steps of the back loading dock. "Good fucking day, Donnie!" Negan shouted a hello to the man guarding the door. "I sure as shit hope nothing went wrong while I was on my little trip. Whaddaya suppose Simon's gonna tell me when I get in there?"

Donnie was his name. He straightened his back a bit and cleared his throat. "W-We lost a few people. Angela, Henry, and Peter." Donnie's voice shook nervously. Negan's eyes narrowed at him.

"Wasn't your fucking fault, was it? I put my fucking faith in you to help keep this camp locked the fuck down." Negan stepped forward and grinned, clicking his tongue. "Oh boy, will you be paying the fucking piper if you got my people killed."

Donnie shook his head quickly. "N-No, Negan. No, sir. It happened on a run, we were heading toward Pulaski County—"

"Close your fucking mouth, Donnie, I was busting your balls! No need to get all nervous and jerky, my man." Negan boomed with laughter and a chill ran down my spine. Holy shit, was he scaring the fuck out of this poor dude. "Step the fuck aside, please."

And the man did so. He moved so quickly, and Negan stepped forward to pull open the heavy door. When he moved us inside, I looked around and saw many long hallways, all empty. There were only about twenty people here (three less now, than before), so where could they all be in a place as monstrous as this?

"Let me take care of some shit before I give you a tour of the place, sweetpea." Negan mumbled to me softly. He was an incredibly vulgar man, but I knew the difference between his words spoken to Donnie outside, and to me right now. He cursed, a hell of a lot, but he wasn't always trying to be an asshole. That's what I've realize during the past few days with him on the road.

So we ventured down a very long and dim hallway. There was not one person in sight. But we eventually came to an alcove that led into a large room, with extremely tall ceilings. It must have been some type of cafeteria, and this is where I saw many people congregating together. Men, women, and even a few of those children Negan told me about. They sat at benches, tables, stood around. They all seemed to be here, in this one place. I thought back to when the woman at the front gate spoke into her radio as we drove into the camp. It made sense that she probably sent warnings, letting people know that Negan had arrived back from wherever the hell he went off to.

"My fucking people! Great to see you all again," Negan smiled and looked around at the people before him. Some looked sad, not in great moods, and I could only gather that it was because of their fallen members. An Angela, Henry, and Peter. "First things first, Simon, what the fuck happened while I was gone?" 

A tall man with brown receding hair, and a thick mustache stepped forward from his place in line. "Paula and I took a small group out, went on a supply run." He began, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Some sons of bitches tried taking our shit in the middle of the woods, shot Ang, Pete and Henry." He sighed. 

"So you trying to tell me that those gross motherfuckers didn't attack our people?" Negan asked, taking a step away from me and toward Simon. 

Simon nodded. "It wasn't walkers who did it. Some bitch with a god damn M16 shot us up. Took our supplies, too."

Negan let out a huff and rubbed his face with the hand that wasn't supporting his bat. "Well, I guess that means we gotta hunt her the fuck down, right? How many god damn people was she with?"

"Four or five?" Simon guesstimated. He look cool and calm here talking in front of Negan, a complete opposite of how that woman at the front gate was, and Donnie, too. 

Negan only shook his head. "I'm sorry for your loss, everyone. But don't you all worry," he turned away from Simon and raised his arms, spreading them out wide, holding his bat firmly in his hand. "These mother fuckers'll just deal with Lucille." His eyes flitted to the baseball bat in his hand. Dear God, he named his barbed wire bat.  _Lucille._  "That's right, they'll learn their fucking lesson. Now, I'm sure you're wondering who the hell this beautiful lady is standing here with me," Negan grinned and turned to look at me. Before, it was as if I had forgotten I was standing in a giant room full of twenty people I didn't know. Twenty strangers. Twenty human beings, when I was only accustomed to having myself as my only company. I was suddenly very aware of myself, and my cheeks heated slightly at the many pairs of eyes looking back at me.

"This is Carolina. And she will be staying with us, for as long as she'd like to. Fuck, forever if she really wants." His hand touched my arm and my eyes found his momentarily. A smirk slipped onto his inviting lips. "So treat her right. She's one of us, now. More importantly, she's my friend, so if I  _really_  find out that someone's been giving her shit, well, you'll have to face the fucking consequences. That clear?"

Friend. Friend.  _Friend._

"Yes, Negan." The group all spoke, nodding their heads. I couldn't tell what I saw written on their faces. Fear? Obedience? It was obvious that everyone followed Negan's orders and tried their hardest to meet his expectations. But for what reason? Deep down inside, I hoped it was because he was the only person who knew what the fuck he was doing in this new world. I hoped that he was the only soul they could look up to, I hoped that he  _gave them hope._

"Alrighty then, fucking wonderful!" He laughed and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I'm done now, go back and resume your previous activities. No further runs or missions until I say. Toodle fucking loo!" He spun around to face me once again, and began walking out of the large room. "Come on, doll. I got shit to show ya!"

One thing I noticed about Negan, that I did not notice before, was the was he moved. He walked so confidently, with so much swagger, and sometimes, when he was standing still, he'd lean back just a bit, especially while making snide or sarcastic remarks. It was just him, his demeanor, his usual appearance and attitude. I had never met someone like him. Hell, I'm sure there was not one other Negan in this entire world. At least, not before all of this happened, not before the world began to crumble to pieces.

"They're all really obedient of you, aren't they?" I asked as Negan led us up a flight of stairs. 

He chuckled and glanced over at me. "They sure as shit are. They need someone to look up to, someone to show 'em just how things oughtta be in this world now. I swear, if it weren't for me, more than half those people out there would be fucking dog food." I winced at the image. "And, yeah, okay, some of them might even fear me a little bit, but who's it fucking hurting? Not them, not me. If anything, it benefits them a whole fucking lot."

"So I'm going to become like them, too? Fearful of you, obedient?" I questioned, halting mid-step on a stair. Negan paused and turned. If he weren't taller than me before, he sure as hell was now. His form towered over me, and I saw a smirk slide onto his face. God, all he ever does is smirk. He hesitated before stepping down onto my step, bowing his head, moving it incredibly near my own. I held my breath as I felt his against my ear and neck.

"Are you already fearful of me? Do I scare you, sweatpea?" He asked, voice rough and quiet in my ear. A chill encased my body, goosebumps rising to my skin. I swear to God I could hear and feel his smirk. We were so close, bodies nearly touching, his lips nearing my ear.  _Fuck._

"No." I breathed out, my voice a whisper. I couldn't tell if I was lying or not. Negan chuckled, that same, almost dark sound. Would the heavy, tingling sensation I received in my lower stomach make me fucked up person?

"Oh, Carolina," Negan sighed, drawing out the sound of my name, and I swear to God above, I had never heard something so yummy in my life.  _What the fuck, Carolina?_  "Maybe I should work on that. I don't know how I feel having one person not scared shitless when they're in the same building as me." I knew he was joking, I could hear it in his voice. Negan leaned up and pulled his face away from mine, and I felt my lungs release so much air that I was holding in.

"Come on, baby doll. Gotta show you your new fucking palace."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.19.2017
> 
> ‘Revelation’ moodboards https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**THIS PLACE WAS** so much larger than I had anticipated. It took a very long time for Negan to show me around the Sanctuary, in and out of hallways, down this corridor and that walkway. He had already introduced me to the cafeteria when we first made our arrival here. I was also shown where most of the living quarters were. So many, that most people had their own rooms, all to themselves. The living space seemed much too large to accommodate twenty people. It occurred to me that maybe they were readying it for many more to come.

I was shown where to go when you were sick or hurt; a small room was set up as a mini doctor’s office and hospital. It impressed me just how many medical supplies Negan’s group was able to scavenge. I was also shown where their armory was; the group had an extensive collection of guns, automatic rifles, shotguns, handhelds, the whole nine yards. Maybe I wouldn’t have to resort to using my old and beat up broomstick handle weapon anymore. Though, someone would really have to teach me how to hold and shoot a real gun. I hoped that someone here in this group would get along with me and would welcome me in happily. I had a feeling that they were pissed about my sudden arrival, especially since three of their own were just murdered by an unknown group.

Negan’s quarters were up on the fourth floor, very much secluded from the rest of the people living here. The man enjoyed his privacy, I guess. I was surprised to see the amount of stuff in his room. It was incredibly mismatched. A small table sat against one of the far walls with two chairs, both not alike from each other. A decent-sized black leather couch sat in the middle of the room, and another tan suede chair sat adjacent to it. There was a dark wooden coffee table in front of the two. How the fuck?

“Yeah, I sure as shit ain’t no interior designer, but you gotta take what the world gives you. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” His voice interrupted my train of thought as he stepped past me into his main room. He gently leaned his bat, Lucille, against the leather couch.

“How the hell were you able to do all this?” I questioned in astonishment. He even had a rug in the middle of the room. And then the makeshift kitchen! It wasn’t much, just a simple little table with a microwave sat on top of it. They had electricity in this place?

“Wasn’t too hard. We went on multiple runs a long while back and I spotted some shit I liked. So I took it. Go on, sit, take a load off. That couch is comfortable as fuck.” Negan shrugged off his black leather jacket, and I couldn’t help but stare at his big, round biceps. The white t-shirt he was wearing fit him so sinfully well, and his pants hung low on his hips. Jesus. I blinked a few times before finding myself again and walking over to the leather couch. I sat back and let out a small sigh. It reminded me of the cool smoothness of his jacket. God dammit, Carolina.

“I haven’t sat on a couch this comfortable in years.” I mumbled and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. It was so clean, cool, crisp. I was suddenly extremely aware of the fact that I hadn’t taken a decent shower in a very, very long time.

“God, you should see the bed, darling.” Negan chuckled and walked over to a wooden pantry. He opened up one of the glass doors and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels. You’ve got to be kidding me. Alcohol. He had alcohol. It was funny, because it seemed that the second the world fell apart, the first thing people ran for was the booze. I couldn’t find it anywhere. Not that I was searching for it, or anything.

“Um, since you have electricity, do you have showers?” I asked slowly, not wanting to get let down if the answer was a big fat no.

“You bet your cute little ass we do.” Negan replied, grabbing a class cup from the pantry and pouring himself some Jack. “Hot as hell, too.”

I nearly choked on my own breath. “E-Excuse me?” My eyes widened.

Negan let out a howl of laughter and slammed the bottle of Jack Daniels down a little too hard. “Hot as hell water, doll. The showers?” He smirked as he raised the glass to his lips, taking a large sip of the alcohol. He barely winced as he swallowed the brown liquid down hard. “It goes both ways, though. Whatever you want your pretty little ears to hear. Shit, you’re sure as hell a steamy sight to behold.” He knew he was making me uncomfortable, because he kept chuckling as he drank.

“About those showers?” I stood up from the couch.

Negan sighed with a smile and set his glass down. “Right through my bedroom and to the left. There’s towels and some soap in there. Go ahead and help yourself, I’ll get you some fresh clothes, too.”

Not one single curse word escaped his lips for three whole sentences, which surprised the hell out of me. “It ain’t the most luxurious bathroom in the world, but it’s good enough for being in a god damn factory. I’ll have some clothes waiting for you on the bed.” He nodded back toward his room and winked at me. Dear God.

I wiped my palms, which were still sore as all hell from my fall the night Negan saved me, against my dirty jeans, and I gave Negan a nod. “Thank you, again. For all of this.” I said quietly.

The man in front of me ran a hand over his scruffy face and gave me another one of his signature smiles. “You got it, sweetpea. After this, I’ll show you to your room.”

∧∨∧

I could have stayed under the scalding hot spray of the shower forever. I now smelt of men’s shampoo and body wash, but I was in love with it. It saddened me, as it reminded me of how Anthony used to smell when our lives were great. When nothing bad had happened. I wrapped a fluffy towel around my body and stepped out of the bathroom, into Negan’s bedroom, where I was able to take all of its details in.

The bed was in fact huge. Again, my mind went wild with questions of how the hell all of this was possible. He had an exceptionally small group, yet such an immense place to call home, and was fortunate enough to have furniture in wonderful condition. Negan really knew what the fuck he was doing here.

A fluffy, black comforter was spread across his king sized bed, and I could see dark blue sheets sitting underneath as the comforter tucked itself over, exposing the fabric below it. I also noticed that in this room was a small bookcase with an assortment of paperbacks and hardcovers. I made a note to myself that I would later check those out when I had the time.

The clothes Negan fetched me fit surprisingly well. A pair of athletic black leggings hugged my legs, and a warm, long sleeve camouflage Henley fell across my upper body. God, was it comfortable. I stepped out of Negan’s room, hands expertly drying the ends of my hair with the towel he gave me. He was sitting in the tan suede armchair when I appeared in the doorway, and a smug look crossed the features of his face.

“Jee-suhs, Negan. Wonderful outfit choice, my man.” Negan gave himself a little clap and stood up. “I ever tell you how smoking fucking hot you are, Carolina?”

My cheeks blushed red at his bluntness. “I think you’ve mentioned it once or twice,” I chuckled and ran my fingers through my hair to get rid of some knots. I had slipped on some new warm socks and my black boots in Negan’s room. It felt incredible to be this clean.

Negan ushered me out of his quarters and led me down to the end of the long corridor of the fourth floor before stopping at a door. When he opened it, I noticed that it was nearly identical to Negan’s own living space. A small table with two chairs, a couch, a rocking chair, and a coffee table.

“Jesus, it’s like a fucking hotel. Do you have the whole building set up like this? You know there’s not enough people to fill these rooms, right?” I stepped in immediately and began looking around. Jesus Christ, he even had alcohol stashed in the cabinets of this room, too.

“But one day I plan on building this place up. Like I said, I’m persuasive as shit. If I can get twenty people to worship my awesome ass, why not more?” He shrugged and watched in amusement as I checked out the room around me.

“It’s all for you, if you want it. Like you said, I don’t have enough fucking people to fill all these rooms up. So instead of suffocating yourself in one of those tiny ass closets, just take this.”

I stood up from where I was crouched near a bookshelf and turned to look at the man across the room. Negan had his hands shoved in his pockets as he stood there casually, eyes locked on me.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked him gently, folding my arms across my chest. Negan shrugged, and for once, I saw no sign of the asshole hidden behind his warm brown eyes.

“Because I know what you’ve been through and I know how you feel. And because I ain’t a fucking douchebag. So take it. It’s yours.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.19.2017
> 
> ‘Revelation’ moodboards https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

******SLEEPING IN MY** new bed made me feel like I was on a whole different planet. The sheets were deep and fluffy, and when I woke up the next morning, I felt refreshed. Which was absolutely alien to me. I was used to waking up with stiff necks from sleeping on shitty hardwood floors, concrete, rough terrain. I would get cramps in my back and would constantly live with headaches and shoulder pain. But that's what came with living in a deadly apocalyptic world.

I awoke the next day to the sound of knocking on my door. I reluctantly rose from bed and dragged myself through the small bedroom, into the living area, and to the front door. I was immensely disappointed when the person knocking was not Negan. Instead, it was a young woman. She had long blonde hair down to her waist, and soft green eyes. Freckles dotted across her cheek bones and nose. She didn't look to be much older than thirty.

"Hi. Carolina?" The woman asked and gave me a small, welcoming smile. "I'm Kenny. My daughter and I live down on the second floor, and I wanted to let you know that we're going to have some breakfast soon. If you'd like to join us, of course." Her voice made my insides warm, for it was gentle and beautiful. It was a huge difference than Negan's harsh, rough, and vulgar words.

I gave Kenny a smile. "I would really enjoy that, thank you, Kenny."

Kenny nodded and shrugged her shoulders. "It's my pleasure! I can wait for you until you're finished getting ready, if you'd like. This place can sure get really confusing, it's so big."

Kenny sat in my living room area as I went into my new bedroom. Negan had dropped off a selection of clothes for me last night, so that I wouldn't have to be wearing the same outfit every single day. I had a few shirts, and a few pairs of pants in my tiny dresser that rested against the windowed wall in my room. After throwing on the same pair of athletic leggings from last night, and a new long sleeve shirt, I freshened up as much as I could in the bathroom before coming back out into the living area. Kenny smiled when I reappeared, and the two of us left to make our way down to the cafeteria.

"So, where did you come from?" Kenny asked as we walked.

"Richmond," I replied instantly. "Before all of this, anyways. I've been making my way around Virginia for the past few years, I think. But, I'm not exactly sure where I was when Negan found me." Honestly, I had been clueless.

"He saved your life, didn't he?"

I nodded. "That he did. I would have been dead if he hadn't have slugged those biters off of me."

Kenny and I turned a corner and began heading down many flights of stairs. "Negan's a good man. He saved every single of of us. Taylor and I were nearly starving to death in the early spring when he found us. Taylor, that's my daughter. She was really sick, we both were, and he spotted us on the side of the road and gave us food and water. We've been with him ever since."

Suddenly I felt so jealous of this woman next to me. I would do anything to be with my daughter and son again. "Why does it seem like everyone's terrified of him, then?" I curiously asked. What I saw yesterday made me feel uneasy. People were scared of Negan, it was obvious. He was loud and incredibly blunt about everything, and I saw a tiny sliver of fear in their eyes when his bat, Lucille, moved about in the air.

"It's not like that, at all. Negan is a... very brutal man. He's brutally honest, brutal with his words and voice. Hell, these kids we have here are going to be cursing like sailors when they're just a little bit older." Kenny laughed as we exited a stairwell. I could see the entrance to the cafeteria from here, and my stomach growled at the smell of maple and brown sugar oatmeal.

"He's tough on us, extremely, but I think that's what we need. He means no harm, he really does care about our group so much," she reassured me, reaching out and opening up one of the double doors of the cafeteria.

Most of the group was here, now. The children I recognized from yesterday were all sitting together at a small table, shoveling spoonfuls of oatmeal into their mouths and laughing as they talked and joked around with each other. The women congregated together as they sipped on small cups of water, and the men stood together, deeply discussing a topic of importance.

"Mommy!"

I flinched and whipped my head around to the children's table. My heart ached as I realized that I wasn't being called, that the blond-haired woman next to me was, instead. A small girl of about six or seven hopped down from her bench at the table and began running full-speed at Kenny and I. Kenny crouched down and scooped up the girl in her arms, laughing at how excited Taylor was to see her. She was identical to her mother, with long blonde hair and bright green eyes. Her face was covered with even more freckles than Kenny.

"Taylor, love, say hello to our new friend. Her name is Carolina, she's going to be staying with us." Kenny smiled and kissed her daughter's cheek. Taylor looked up at me and grinned, reaching her hand out to me. It took me a few moments to realize she was going for handshake.

"Hi, Carolina. I'm Taylor! And this is my mommy." She said sweetly, her small voice thick with a warm southern accent. I felt my chest swell with happiness at the young girl in front of me.

"It's so wonderful to meet you, Taylor. You're a very pretty girl," I squeezed her hand and laughed when she giggled shyly and hid her face in her mother's hair.

Kenny rubbed her daughter's back and turned to me. "I'm gonna go check on the little ones. How about you go get yourself something to eat? Emily over there will get you all set up." She nodded over to the corner of the cafeteria where an older woman with graying hair stood, mixing around some oatmeal for others.

Emily was a quiet woman who didn't say much of anything. She would give closed-mouth smiles, tiny nods, or shakes of her head. I suspected that she had been through a lot in her life, for there was this constant state of sadness on her face that she tried very hard to cover up. I thanked her deeply for the food she gave me before turning to head back to Kenny.

Warm, large hands suddenly found my shoulders, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I felt someone's tall and towering frame behind me, and when I turned, I was met with the grinning and amused face of Negan.

"I scare ya, sweetheart? I see you've found your way to the food." Negan chuckled and I brought my little bowl of oatmeal closer to my chest.

"Good morning," I breathed out a weak laugh, still spooked from his sudden appearance behind me. "Kenny found me and brought me down."

"Yeah, I sent her ass to get you. I figured you'd like her, some of these ladies in here are real fucking bitches." Negan said this too loud for my liking, and I blushed, hoping that no one heard what he had just spoken. "Not her, though, of course. Although, she does tend to call people out on their shit. Anyways, how'd sleeping go for you? Ain't that bed fucking wonderful?"

I nodded and took a bite of my oatmeal, not wanting for it to get cold. "It's been so long since I've slept that great." I told him after swallowing my food. "I definitely didn't wake up as much as I usually do." I did have the same recurring nightmare, though. A night doesn't go by where I don't think about the death of my husband and the disappearance of my two children.

"Get used to it, sweetpea. This is the rest of your life." Negan smirked and patted my arm.

"And how did you sleep?" I questioned in return. I knew he hadn't had much rest in the time since he rescued me. We were constantly moving and stopping, sleeping here and there whenever we could.

"Ooh, like a fucking baby," He grinned, eyes flitting down to my face. My eyes locked with his, and I noticed him bite his lip. "It killed me knowing you were only right down the hall." At first, I wasn't able to comprehend what his thoughts were, his reason for saying this. Confusion crossed my features, and Negan let out an amused laughed. I wanted to believe what I imagined him to mean. "You're fucking cute as shit, baby doll. Listen, I've got some important business to attend to today. You know, Leader of the Community type of bullshit. And I gotta deal with those motherfuckers killing my people, so I know that by the time I get back, I'll be in real fucking need of a drink. I hope to see you in my room later tonight, you got me, sweetheart?"

So, basically, he wanted me to drink with him. And I don't think that's an offer I would be able to pass up. Especially an offer that involved him. I found myself nodding, staring up at his pretty face. "Fucking beautiful," he grinned and ran his fingers tips down my arm, coming to rest on the skin of my exposed wrist. "I do very much look forward to it, my friend." My head felt heavy and dizzy, and my heart skipped a beat. Because  _fuck, Negan._

When he eventually walked away, and I was left standing there with my now cold bowl of oatmeal, I knew I was truly fucked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.20.2017
> 
> ‘Revelation’ moodboards https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**IT TURNS OUT** that most of the men in the group would have been gone all day, literally. Negan, Simon, and some other guys loaded up a box truck with themselves, some supplies, and weapons, then took off around nine in the morning. I watched as Negan zipped up his black leather jacket, tucked a red scarf around his neck, and swung Lucille into his possession before they all departed. Back at the Sanctuary, I learned that each person contributed to something different. Emily always dealt with serving out food, in exception to Angela, who used to help with that before she was killed. Kenny watched the children, for she had a daughter of her own and was a school teacher before the world fell apart. Donnie manned the loading dock entrance to the building, and a woman named Paula kept watch at the gate with another man who had already left on Negan's trip. Simon, I learned, was Negan's special right-hand man. There was an intense sense of respect between the two men, and Simon could be just as confident as Negan, at times.

Kenny had told me a lot about the doctor that lived with their group. His name was Stanley, and he was a man in his late thirties, with skin a few shades darker than mine. He was a big guy, tall and muscular, and he was attractive. His wife was the nurse that the Sanctuary had. And I was extremely happy to see that I got along very well with them. Stanley and his wife Jaqueline took me down to the infirmary they had set up, and I suddenly began missing my job, back when I was a nurse and constantly helping people in Bon Secours Memorial Regional Medical Center.

"I'm sure Negan would happily let you help us out here," Jaqueline told me that early afternoon as the husband and wife showed me all of the medical supplies they were able to scavenge during the time they spent here. "We're always in need of someone new who knows what they're doing in this field. Stan and I will bring it up to him tomorrow when he gets back." It would feel great to be able to keep myself busy here, especially if something bad happened, or if someone fell ill.

During the day, I was also brought to a little garden outside of the factory building where the group had been growing and harvesting fruits and vegetables. Bright red tomatoes hung heavily from their green vines, cabbage grew from the ground, there was even a tiny apple tree working hard to grow tall so that it could eventually produce fruit. It amazed me how advanced this group became, with such a small amount of people. I began to realize just how influential Negan was as a leader. He took these people who had nothing, and built them up to create something strong and united.

I tried making small conversation with Emily as she dished out my lunch and dinner, which were both spaghetti and most likely expired canned tomato soup as the sauce, but she continued to say the bare minimum. I hoped it wasn't me, and that it was only her and her normal behavior. Kenny introduced me to the other children, who consisted of Jonathan, a two year old little boy with amazingly bright blue eyes, Will, a nine year old boy who had lost his mother a year back, and Stephanie, a fifteen year old girl with an intense love for comic books.

It was late when Negan and his men arrived back at the Sanctuary from their trip. I watched from a window as the box truck pulled up alongside the loading dock, followed by a new pickup truck that I did not recognize. A man that everyone called Nuñez stepped out of the pickup truck and slug a bag over his shoulder, grabbing an automatic rifle. Simon and a young kid named David exited the back of the box truck, exposing a massive collection of new supplies. Then, a man named Harrison hopped out of the driver's seat, followed by Negan who jumped out the passenger side and slammed the door shut. A very bloody Lucille was propped against his leather covered shoulder. The side of his face was speckled red with blood.

"Howdy fucking do, everyone!" Negan shouted throughout the hallway. A few of the wives of the men rushed forward to hug them, grateful that their husbands were back home safe. "We made great fucking progress today, didn't we, boys?" A few of the men nodded as they hugged their wives, then went to help unload the box truck. Boxes and crates of canned and boxes food flooded in, home items like pillows and blankets, cases of gin and whiskey. How the fuck?

I stood back, away from the commotion of their arrival. Negan's eyes eventually found mine and he smirked slightly. "Gentlemen, take care of all that shit, then call it a day." He waved his hand at the supplies and began walking toward me. Worry instantly flooded my stomach as he came closer. Lucille's barbed wire was caked with blood and brains, and Negan's face was painted and smeared with it, as well.

"Are you hurt?" I asked quietly as I followed Negan down the corridor. He chuckled quietly and sent a look my way.

"Why, you concerned about my wellbeing?"

I shrugged my shoulders and followed him up a set of stairs. "You're covered in blood, your bat—"

"—She's got a name, sweetheart."

I swallowed. "Lucille looks like she just murdered someone." I mumbled. The bat propped against his shoulder shined with thick blood, making my stomach churn.

"Don't you worry your cute little heart, doll. Let's just say no ones gonna be fucking with my fucking people no more." He smiled devilishly. The look on his confirmed that someone had died under his control, maybe even multiple people. "I killed their people for killing my people, I shut that shit down so quickly with no exceptions. That shit does not fly past me."

We made it up to the fourth floor and walked a little father until we made it to his room. He led the two of us in and gestured to his black leather couch. "Give me a few minutes to get myself cleaned up, doll. Help yourself to anything you'd like." Negan said politely and I nodded, instantly relaxing back into the couch cushions. I heard his shower turn on after he disappeared into his bedroom, and I took the opportunity to look around the living area. Nothing had changed from yesterday, but I was able to get a closer and more detailed view of what was really in here.

There was a desk in the corner that I was unable to notice yesterday. It had many pieces of paper, books, and I wondered what they could possibly be for. I found myself rising from the couch and walking over to it. There was a large map with sketches and lines all drawn across it, with a particular star drawn with the word "SANCTUARY" written. Then, blue and red marker led out of the Sanctuary and down different roads and highways, leading to different circled areas. I sat down at the desk and started shuffling through the maps and papers, reading everything over, but it didn't make much sense to me.

I had failed to hear when the shower turned off in the other room. My eyes located a small cigar tin, and I reached out, opening it slowly. Inside, there were a handful of Polaroid pictures, all depicting gruesome scenes. Dead bodies with bashed in skulls, people lying dead in their own pools of blood. Holy fuck—

"The fuck you think you're looking at, sweetheart?"

I jumped at the rough, quiet voice in my left ear and dropped the cigar tin, a gasp escaping my lips. I whipped around, and Negan stood there behind me, a mixture of amusement and annoyance crossing over his features. He had a towel draped around his neck, his hair damp from the shower. He was wearing an old white t-shirt, one that exposed the tattoos inked into his arms, and a pair of pants that hung loose on his hips. As usual. I didn't know what made me more breathless; Negan's handsome appearance, or the fact that he had just caught me in the act of snooping through his personal documents.

Negan reached out and snapped the cigar tin shut, then proceeded to place it back in it's initial spot on the desk. I was still mentally freaking out about the current situation I was in. Because holy shit, what the fuck was I just looking at and what was Negan going to do to me?

"Now, I sure fucking hope going through other people's private shit isn't going to be a common occurrence for you," Negan mumbled out and tilted my chin up to look at his face.

I quickly shook my head, eyes wide. "N-No, I swear to God, I was only curious." I nearly choked out. "It won't happen again, Negan."

He let out one of his signature laughs. "Calm down, baby doll. Just don't want you seeing anything you shouldn't see. But, it seems like you already have." The Polaroid pictures.

"What were those?" I asked, my voice smaller than I hoped it would be.

Negan's thumb brushed against my cheek. "Nothing you gotta worry about right now. We'll talk about that later. Now, why don't you come sit and have a drink with me, huh?" He pulled away and reached for my hand, helping me up from the desk chair. I went back over to the couch, hands shaking from our encounter. I was terrified of what I just saw, but I hoped I could trust him that they weren't to be worried about. Right now.

I was handed a rather large glass of brown liquid when Negan came back to the couch. It smelled incredibly strong, but I knew it wasn't the Jack Daniels I had seen Negan drinking earlier yesterday. I raised the glass to my lips and took a small sip. And my God, had I missed this. Negan relaxed back next to me and draped an arm over the back of the couch, behind me. It was quiet for a while as we just sat there and drank. The quiet didn't bother me, though. I just appreciated Negan's presence and the feeling of someone, another human being, next to me. My stomach began to feel warm, my cheeks heating up with the whiskey flowing through my system. I was relaxed, more relaxed than I had been in a very long time. I needed it.

Negan's eyes were closed as he sat next to me, and I could feel the body heat radiating off of him. He was close, so close, I could just reach out and touch him.

"Do you kill a lot of people?" I asked quietly, breaking the long silence. The blooded-up Lucille, all of those Polaroid pictures. I could make the connection that those people died either under Lucille, or Negan's men. There were only about five of them, but to me, it was five too many.

Negan opened one eye slowly and peeked over at me. "I try not to. But I like killing people, under the right circumstances." He truthfully told me, and closed his eye again, resting his head back against the leather couch. “I don’t let people fuck with my own, I don’t let people steal from me, betray me, or try to manipulate me, take advantage. If you do any of that shit,” he took his fingers and dragged them across his throat. Dead.

I kicked off my boots, letting them fall to Negan’s floor. “I stole from you. The first morning we were together, I tried stealing all of your food and water from the cabin. I was going to leave.” I sat up and pulled my legs onto the couch, crossing them under me. The half empty glass of whiskey was still held in my hands.

My words and my movement caused Negan to open his eyes and turn to look at me. “You’re right. But you didn’t fight me about it and you proved yourself to be loyal.”

I sipped at my drink and let out a little laugh. “Loyal? I’ve been with you for not even a week yet! I could kill you right now if I wanted to.” I grinned.

Negan raised an eyebrow and chuckled, turning his body and scooting forward. “Kill me? Fuck, baby, I’d love to see you try.” My knees were pressed up against his leg, and we were so close. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, could see all of the tiny imperfections on his face. The wrinkles by his eyes, the stressed lines etched into his forehead. I noticed a tiny fleck of blood on his cheek bone, which he easily missed when cleaning himself off. I reached up and brushed my thumb against the dried redness, the palm of my hand cupping his cheek.

“I could do it. I’ve killed before, I could kill you, too.” I mumbled. I felt one of his strong hands press into the top of my thigh, and watched his eyes darken in front of mine. Our faces had moved closer together, just a few inches away from each other. Negan’s lips twitched in a small smile. And then he was moving closer, and my breath caught in my throat at the possibility of what could happen next. He said nothing, and neither did I, because his full lips pressed hard against my own, and I lost all sense of what the fuck was happening.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.22.2017
> 
> ‘Revelation’ moodboards https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**ALL OF MY** senses had been heightened, if that was even possible for someone who was half-drunk. I felt every movement of the pair of lips wrapped around mine, felt the rough hair of his  beard and mustache tickling my skin. The smell of whiskey was strong, and my heart pounded right out of my chest. I nearly dropped my glass of whiskey from shock, but one of Negan's hands reached forward to take it from my loose grasp, pulling away to place it on the coffee table. Negan wasted no time in resuming his previous actions; an arm wrapped around my waist and I felt his hand lay dangerously low, urging me toward him at my lower back. Warm lips found mine again, and I instantly melted into the kiss. It was deep and slow, something that I would never have expect Negan to be all for. But here we were, casually and comfortably kissing on his black leather couch.

Somewhere along the way, Negan had shifted the two of us so that he was sitting back into the couch. His hands slid down my sides and pressed against the back of my thighs, directing me into his lap. I even let out a stupid laugh as I realized I was looking down on him. For once, he wasn't taller than me. I took his face back into my hands and smiled for a moment, watching the way his eyes followed mine, feeling the way his pulse thudded against my own skin. It had been a very long time since Negan had said anything; in fact, this was probably the longest he'd gone without opening his stupid fucking mouth.

"You drunk right now, baby doll?" He asked me in a low voice, and I watched him smirk. There we go. One of my thumbs brushed against his bottom lip gently, and I felt myself smile above him.

"Maybe. But so are you." I mumbled in reply. I went to lean in and kiss him once more, pressing my body flush against his. Negan let out a satisfied sigh against my lips, but suddenly pulled away.

"I don't take advantage of girls when they're drunk, sweetpea." He smirked up at me.

"It won't be taking advantage if it's what I want." A frustrated pout etched itself across my features. Negan just chuckled and brought a hand to the side of my face, stroking my skin lightly.

"You're intoxicated, you don't know what you want. Remember high school health class? Drinking makes you do stupid, crazy shit. Impairs your judgment, all that shit."

I sighed and pressed a tiny shove to his shoulder. "You're a fucking asshole, Negan."

Amusement was written all over his face. "You're a feisty little firecracker, aren't you, baby?" He laughed, causing me to pout and shove against him even harder. Going against his previous word, Negan leaned up and pressed a final kiss to my lips. It was slow and so incredibly wonderful, I didn't want it to stop. But it did end too fast, and he was pulling away, tucking my dark hair behind my ear. "Think about it when you're sober, then maybe we'll finish what we started." He grinned, and I leaned forward against him, resting my head against his chest. Defeated.

Negan and I sat there together for a while, his arms wrapped around my waist. I eventually drifted off to sleep, and as I slept, a million and one thoughts flew around my head. What had I just done? Did I regret this? Did I feel terrible for kissing a man when I was still married? Technically you aren't married, anymore, Carolina. Anthony died years ago, he wouldn't want you to be miserable without him. And it's not like I didn't enjoy what I had done. It was just a kiss—multiple kisses—and it didn't lead to anything else. It would have if Negan didn't stop the two of you.

When I woke up the next morning, I found myself tucked tightly into my own bed. The sheets and comforter wrapped around me warmly, and the sun shone through the windows above my tiny dresser on the other side of the room. My stomach filled with butterflies as I realized that Negan must have carried me to my room during the night and put me to sleep in my bed. Holy shit.

I quickly sat I and ripped the covers away from me to see that I was still wearing my leggings and long sleeve shirt from yesterday. Thank you, God. It made me happy to know that not only was Negan against making any serious moves with a drunk girl, but he was also classy enough to not undress me without me knowing. I noticed a warm-looking jacket on the other side of my bed with a piece of paper on top. Crawling over, I picked up the paper and read:

It's starting to get cold as shit out and you don't have a jacket, so here. Bundle up.

It was Negan's messy handwriting. I recognized it immediately from last night when I was being nosey and snooping through all of Negan's documents on the desk in his living room. And when I thought of him, staring at this piece of paper, I thought of last night's events. Us casually drinking together, getting closer on the couch, making out. My cheeks heated up, and for some reason, I was afraid of seeing him today. I meant what I did last night, but what if he didn't? What if it was just a kiss to him? He did tell me that he didn't take advantage of girls when they were drunk, but did he choose to stop anything else from happening because he really didn't want anything else to happen?

After I dressed and readied myself for the day, I found most of the group outside. The young kids ran around their mothers’ legs, playing a rather amusing game of hide and seek. They wanted to ventured farther out, but in a world like this, they’d most likely end up dead. People stood around, watching and laughing as Stephanie, the fifteen year old, was being taught how to drive. She sat behind the wheel of an older car, stepping on the brakes a bit too hard, making her and David jump forward.

Something was different about the group of us standing out here, and I came to realize that many people were missing. Again, the men.

“Where’d everyone go off to?” I asked as I came up alongside Kenny, pulling my new jacket around my body. Negan was right. During the night, the temperature had dropped drastically. Winter was well on its way.

“It’s Saturday,” Kenny told me, like I was obviously missing something that should have been known. “The guys went to go collect from that small group about an hour away.”

“Kenny, I’ve only been here a few days, so I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, right! Well, there’s about fifteen people or so that live in a tiny, gated trailer park community an hour away. A few months ago they attacked us, and Negan and a few of the guys figured out where they had a camp set up. Negan’s real serious about who messes with our people, so he gave the group an ultimatum.” Jesus. I tried to prepare myself for what Kenny could possibly say next. “They could have either sacrificed a few of their own people to die, or every week, we would take half of what they were able to collect. Being loyal to themselves, they chose to do the latter. So, that’s why every Saturday morning, Negan, Simon, and a few others take the little trip out to their community, and they collect whatever the group was able to bring up.”

I’m not really sure what I was expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it. I nodded slowly, understanding Kenny’s explanation. In the background of our conversation, Stephanie was screaming with laughter as David continued to attempt to teach her how to work the car. “Has he done this with other groups before?”

Kenny nodded instantly and smiled. “He has, but only twice before this. They were small groups, too. Like us. I don’t know what makes them fall to their knees when Negan’s around. I mean, I do, Negan is brutal and terrifying as all hell when he gets mad, but I think it’s amazing. Just how one man of a group as small as ours can control so many others.”

“He has to plan on building this place up more, right? Nearly every room in this place is furnished, every room has something.”

“He’s working on that now, actually. I think he told us there was a camp not too far away, with thirty something people. Bigger than ours, at least. We’ve been spying on them, and they don’t seem to be bad people. They seem to be struggling, actually. So one of these days, I think Negan may propose something to them, to get them to merge with us.”

Negan was a fucking genius. Everything was starting to make sense to me. The size of this camp, the crops, the endless amount of supplies. The bedrooms and living areas both big and small, the extensive collection of weapons in the armory. Negan had been saving all of this stuff for such a long time, and it was all for a reason. His brutality and rough nature reflected well as he was a leader. And I knew that as the group’s numbers multiplied, he would only get stronger.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.29.2017
> 
> OKAY LISTEN UP: So I know that the Governor and Woodbury took place in Georgia in The Walking Dead. Carolina is from Virginia and that's the basic area she roamed around at the beginning of the apocalypse, and I know that it doesn't make sense for the Governor to be all the way up in Virginia, but just go with me on this one. Forget that the events of Woodbury solely took place in Georgia. When I came up with this idea many chapters ago, it completely slipped my mind that Carolina was in Virginia and not Georgia. SO. Go with it, thank you (:
> 
> Also Merry belated Christmas and Happy New Year!  
> \---  
> Revelation moodboards: https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**THE GROUP WAS** still gone by the afternoon. After finishing coffee and breakfast outside, and watching Stephanie nearly decapitate her and David during her driving lessons, Kenny allowed me to wander off and do my own thing around the Sanctuary. The camp and building were mostly deserted, the space being much too large to accommodate less than two dozen people, including small children. I had found myself moving in and out of each room, taking in the details of the collected supplies, beds, clothing, and other pieces of needed furniture. This time alone allowed me to clear my mind and sort out what was going on with myself and my own thoughts. Something I had yet been able to do since Negan brought me back here. 

I thought back to when I tried taking all of Negan's food and water from the old cabin he brought me to when he first met me. I thought about my mentality then, how I was so set on packing up as much shit as I could, how I was so focused on getting the hell out of there, how I wanted to absolutely refuse Negan's help. I had been on my own for quite a long time, I had been used to living without the assistance of others, without the company and friendship of another human being. All of those who I had once cared about had been ripped away from me so quickly, so suddenly, so brutally, that nothing made sense to me anymore. A life without Anthony, Allison, and Carter was a cold one. One that never saw the sun, a life that never allowed me to see what was beyond. But, maybe Negan was that beyond I was never able to see. And now that he was here, this new life came into focus so easily. Maybe this would just be okay.

I found myself standing in front of a familiar door on the fourth floor. My mind raced back to the events that occurred last night, and my lips tingled with the remembrance of warm, full lips pressed against mine. My cheeks tickled of the memory of rough facial hair scraping against my smooth skin. I needed it, craved it again. My fingers reached out and twisted the door handle open.

The room was just how I remembered it last night. A bottle of whiskey sat on the coffee table, and our empty glasses were resting next to it. My eyes flitted to Negan's desk, where the papers, maps, and other documents were still disheveled from my act of curiosity. I knew I shouldn't be here, that I had a room of my own right down the hall. My feet carried me to the black leather couch, and I sat back, sighing out in content at the feeling of comfort below me. This new life of comfort and safety had me feeling tired, for the constant pang of anxiety that homed itself in my chest was gone. I knew I was unharmed here, that nothing bad would happen to me. And the feeling of Negan's warm living room made me fee that much calmer. 

My eyes scanned the room around me. There were still details I was only now just taking in. Like the ugly tan walls, and another tiny shelf above Negan's desk that held a few books and tiny trinkets. And a picture frame, just a small one, the only one in the entire room, that hung against that one tan wall. It was completely bare of everything else. Besides that one picture. It was a woman, young, maybe around my age or in her later thirties. She had a beautiful face with incredible light eyes, and dark hair. It was shorter, falling in waves to her shoulders, and she smiled brightly. My chest tightened as I stared at the lone photo on the wall, and somehow, I knew exactly who this woman was. Negan had told me once before that he had no family with him. But maybe he did before. Before all of this.

**∧∨∧**

_"Get the fuck away from us!" My throat burned and ached as a scream escaped my lips. There were two cars, headlights blinding the three of us. Men had automatic weapons aimed at our heads, and one stood there smugly with a radio trained at his lips. He pressed down on a button and spoke clearly into the handheld device:_

_"Yeah. We got three of 'em. One woman, two little kids."_

_"How old they look?"_

_"Bout seven or eight, hell if I know. The three of 'em were takin' our shit."_

_Allison and Carter gripped onto my legs as I stood in front of them, protectively keeping them back behind me. I felt them shaking, sniffling and wiping their tears away. All I had was a knife and a handgun, and I didn't even know if the fucking thing even worked. I didn't even know if it was loaded._

_"Keep them, I'll be there shortly. Get the kids, keep Mama occupied. Don't fuckin' let her out of your sight." The voice coming through the receiver spoke calmly, and my heart leaped in my chest when I processed his words._

_"You got it, boss."_

_The man holding the radio turned around, looking at his men who had their weapons aimed at the kids and I. "Well, you heard the man! Get the damn kids!"_

_My fingers tightened on the gun in my hands, and my voice came out hot and harsh. "Take one step and I swear to God, I will fucking shoot." The men only laughed and began advancing forward. My fingers began to act on their own, and without even thinking, I started pulling the trigger. Bullets fired out of the handgun, one at a time, the sound nearly deafening. Allison and Carter screamed and crouched behind me, and I watched as two bullets tore through the chest of one of the armed men._

_"Fucking bitch!"_

_Hands were instantly on us, I had no idea what was happening, where they were coming from, what the fuck was going on. The only thing I could focus on was the cries and screams coming from my two children. I had never heard sounds like those falling from their lips, and it crushed my insides._

_"NO! No, get off, don't you fucking touch them!" I was hysterical, clawing and frantically throwing fists at whoever was touching us. "Please, please, don't! Get off, GET OFF OF THEM!" The gun slipped from my grasp and clattered to the ground as a fist roughly connected with the side of my face. Sharp metal of a ring dug into my cheek and I felt the instant flow of blood._

_"Mommy! Stop, don't hurt her!" Allison was crying out, her voice hysterical. I felt like I was losing my mind. My body was slammed to the hard ground, the asphalt digging into my skin. From the corner of my eye, I saw two men gripping onto Carter and Allison. They held them back, trying to turn them away from me, but they kept pushing and fighting against them._

_"The more you struggle, the worse this is going to be for you, Mama. And the worse this is going to be for you, the worse those cute little kids will have to endure." A strong hand shoved against the back of my head, pressing the side of my face harder into the road beneath me. "So shut your fucking mouth, and maybe they'll stop crying."_

_My entire body shook with fear and rage, but I did not listen to the man above me. I squirmed under his grasp and flipped myself over, grabbing for the knife at my belt. He didn't seem to be expecting this, as I was able to grasp the knife and reach up defiantly, slashing at as much skin as I could. He let out a loud yell in pain as the blade sliced over his ear, across his cheek, and over his lip. The cuts weren't deep, but they extended far, so my attack was enough to put him in pain._

_"You little fucking cunt!" He hand whipped back faster than I could blink, and the back of his hand connected with my face once again. Allison and Carter screamed as the sight and I let out a cry._

_"Why are you doing this to us?" I was eventually able to gather my voice. "This is over water! That we found! We've been nearly starving to death, why won't you let us--" Another blow to my body, this time the side of my head. I screamed as my left ear blew out, a loud ringing filling my head, and my eyes went blurry. I felt a drop of wetness splatter against my swelling cheek, and realized it wasn't mine, but the asshole's above me. His face was painted red from the slashes I carved into his sorry skin._

_"Gentlemen, shove the kids in one of the cars. Watch them until the Governor gets here." The man straddled my waist and I faintly heard the sound of a belt buckle somewhere in the midst of the muffled and ringing noises in my head._

_"N-No, please--" Another hit to my head. A pair of different hands gripped my legs, the man above me gripped my neck in one hand as the other forcefully ripped at the waistband of my jeans. An unfamiliar face appeared in front of mine, blocking out the bright lights from the cars and the darkness of the middle of the night._

_"D-Don't do this, don't do this to me, don't take them." Pleas continued to splutter out of my mouth, even though I knew speaking would only make my punishment worse. "They're only babies, they need me, don't--"_

_I heard their cries and screams from the cars the entire time those disgusting men forced themselves on me. I prayed to God above they couldn't see what was happening, couldn't see as their mother, their only family, was defiled and pushed into the asphalt like a fucking rag doll. That's what I felt like. Even after the so-called Governor arrived to take the kids away, it continued on._ _Fingers brushed against my bloodied and swollen face, traveling over my cheeks, running down my neck, pushing into the top of my shirt, before moving back up to touch at my busted lip. The feeling didn't belong during an event such as this._

**∧∨∧** _  
_

I jumped awake, flinching away from the men in my dream and the touch against my lips. My eyes shot open and I nearly let out a scream at the body standing above me. Negan quickly pulled his hand away from my face, and it took me a long moment to realize where I was. The cool leather couch enveloped my body, but my heart pounded as I still saw the bright headlights of the two cars and the bloodied asphalt beneath me. 

"Jesus, Carolina," Negan's voice sighed and he crouched down in front of me, setting his hands on the sides of my face once again. I went to pull away from his touch, my eyes widening. I wasn't here, this wasn't safe,  _what the fuck--_

 _"_ Hey! Baby doll, relax, it's me. You're alright, come on, now." His voice was firm and loud, but it was soothing. My eyes flitted across his face, and I slowly began to register my reality. Negan. He was in front of me, touching me, holding my face, looking at me. He was breathing in a way where you could only just know he was concerned. And the look of worry flashes across his face, was etched there so deeply. "Look at me. It's me. Look." I let out a deep breath. The blinding lights began to fade away. Everything got clearer. I felt the leather couch beneath my body.

"Negan."

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm here, doll. You're okay, I promise." His hold on my face became gentler, and he was no longer trying to shake me from my dream, but rather softly caressing my skin, trying to calm me and sooth me. He stayed there, crouched in front of me, for a period of time I was really quite unsure of. Eventually, I pulled away from his grasp, and leaned back into the couch, closing my eyes.

"Can I assume that you had some type of fucked up nightmare?" Negan questioned quietly and fell into the spot next to me on the couch.

A weak laugh escaped my lips. "Yeah, some type of fucked up." I mumbled.

"Care to share? I'm all ears, baby." I opened my eyes to find him sitting there, smiling gently. Negan had a sad look in his eyes, and I knew that he knew I wasn't going to explain to him what had just been occurring in my mind.

"Just a bunch of... shit that's happened. I just... don't think I can bring myself to talk about it yet." I told him quietly. "I'm okay. This happens a lot, this one time was just extra shitty." 

Negan sighed, and he took the hint that he should probably change the topic. I knew that he didn't want to let this matter go, but for now, he would. "What you doing sneaking into people's rooms to take naps?" He chuckled.

My cheeks blushed. Shit. "I, uh... I don't know. I was going to go to my room, but I just..."

"Your curiosity get the best of you again, sweetheart?"

I smiled. "I missed you."

It was obvious that Negan wasn't expecting this as my reasoning. He just wasn't expecting those three words to leave my mouth, either way. He didn't smile, didn't laugh. He just looked at me, those pretty eyes roaming over every feature of my face before they briefly landed on my lips. He breathed out and brushed my hair away from my face. "I fucking missed you, too, sweetheart."

For some reason, I was shocked at his own answer. So shocked, that maybe I didn't even believe it. But then I noticed a small switch of his lips, like he wanted so badly to just smile. He nearly did. So I smiled back, all happy and content, like I hadn't just woken up from a terrifying fucking nightmare filled with so many fucked up events. It occurred to me that I might just be moving on from my past. I was looking way beyond everything that had happened to me. Yes, Anthony passed away. Allison and Carter were taken from me, and I didn't even know if they were alive or not. I could mourn the lives of my family all I wanted to, and I knew that there was never going to be a time in my life where I wasn't sad or distraught about these things. But, like I said, Negan was something new.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.31.2017
> 
> Last update of the year! Thank you for all of the positive feedback, this story means a lot to me and I can't wait for more to come from it! See you all in 2018 (:
> 
> \---  
> Revelation moodboards: https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**NEGAN UNZIPPED HIS**  leather jacket and unraveled the red scarf from around his neck. The shiny black fabric was speckled with splattered red blood, along with the side of his face, details I hadn't noticed until long after I was shaken from my nightmare. He had gotten up from the couch after I had come down and relaxed from my dream, picked up the old whiskey glasses from the coffee table, and brought them over to his sink to be cleaned later. I found out it was around four in the afternoon, and he had just gotten back from his collection in the nearby community an hour away. It seemed to me, though, that he would have gotten back much sooner. Unless something happened along the way.

"Kenny told me you were out on a collection run?" I turned around on the couch so that I was looking over the back, watching him settle himself. Negan shrugged off his jacket and laid it on his counter, and I instantly cringed at the thought of all of that blood dirtying the room.

"Kenny would be correct. I never told you about what we do here, did I?" I shook my head. Negan picked up one of the old glasses from the sink, briefly inspected it with his eyes, then cracked open his bottle of Jack before pouring a bit inside the glass. "We've made agreements with a few little groups here and there, in the area. They make, produce, and collect shit for us. Then once a week we drive our asses on over and we take that shit from them. It's an easy agreement."

"And what do you do in return for the supplies they give you?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer. Or some form of it, anyways. Kenny had already told me what the hell was going on earlier this morning.

Negan tipped his head back and emptied the glass of whiskey into his mouth before swallowing it all down. He let out a sigh and smacked his lips together. Refreshed. "I don't fucking kill them, that's what I do in return. These people ain't real friendly people, darlin'. They've crossed me and my group so many times, so I had to make them pay."

"Is that why you're all covered in blood?" I asked, and the smug expression on his face disappeared. "Did you make them pay today?" I wasn't trying to attack him, wasn't trying to piss him off by questioning his authority or reasoning. I was curious.

He sighed and set the glass down on the counter next to his jacket. "You haven't known me long, sweetheart, so you probably won't ever fucking understand my reasoning for anything that I do. Trust me." He ran a hand through his hair and walked back over to where I was, standing in front of the couch and coffee table. "People need to know their place in this world. They need to understand that it ain't fucking okay to piss me the fuck off. I try to protect my people as good as I fucking can, but if you try to kill my people, if you try to steal from me, if you try to cause unnecessary fucking problems, that shit will get shut the fuck down so fucking fast, you won't even be able to blink and see it coming." His voice was slowly getting louder, and I didn't know if this lecture was directed at me, or if Negan was just getting heated, getting pissed off at his own rant. I stayed silent.

"I take shit from people who take shit from me. And I end up doing them a huge fucking favor by not taking their lives. You see, Carolina, I'm a giver. I give people second chances and great fucking opportunities. So, contrary to popular belief, maybe I am a fucking nice ass guy. I didn't kill you when you tried taking my shit. Then again, I'd never fucking hurt a woman unless absolutely necessary. You feel me?"

I stared at Negan. Did I feel him? So many words had just tumbled out of his mouth, I had no idea where to begin with comprehending anything he had just told me. Negan was power-hungry, that much was clear. He wanted authority and control, and it seemed to me like he really could control the rest of the earth's population if he tried hard enough. I simply nodded.

"I think you give these people here strength." I started slowly. "Maybe they need someone like you, someone who's rough around the edges to look up to." I didn't know if what was coming out of my mouth was my true opinion or not. Shit. 

Negan nodded and laughed, throwing his arms out. "See! There you go! Maybe you do understanding what I'm goddamn saying!"

"But you did kill someone today?" I asked quietly. His laughter died down slowly, and I saw a glimmer of guilt in his eye as he looked at me. Almost like he felt bad saying yes to me, and he somehow knew I wasn't okay with these actions.

His eyes flickered to the bloody baseball bat leaning against the wall near the door, then back to me. "Sometimes I gotta do what I gotta do, doll." He mumbled and turned away, walking into his bedroom. The door shut softly, so I knew I wasn't unwanted here. This wasn't a gesture to make me show myself out of his room. Just one to make me stay put. He'd be back.

After about ten minutes of his shower running, it shut off, and I waited a big longer for him to dress and compose himself behind his bedroom door. My eyes kept flickering to the front door where Lucille rest, to the kitchen counter where his bloody leather jacket lay, and to the bare wall where the lone picture frame of a beautiful dark-haired woman hanged. Negan reappeared minutes later in dark pants that (as usual) hung low on his hips, and his dark boots. My eyes roamed over his upper body where I was surprised to see nothing, not a piece of fabric hugging his chest and biceps. I instantly became infatuated with staring at his inked skin, tattoos of all shapes and sizes permanently placed here and there. Droplets of water covered his shoulders and collarbones, even littering the top of his chest.  _Jesus Christ please help me._

"You wanna talk about last night?" His question shook me out of my daze. Last night? The memory of Negan's lips pressing hard against mine invaded my head, and I felt my cheeks heat up. 

"I wasn't oblivious to what I was doing. I was drunk, but I wasn't drunk enough to be making irrational decisions." I told him plainly. It was the truth. I knew what I wanted to do, and that was kiss him. Maybe even do more than that. But, Negan had halted any further actions before I got the chance to figure it all out. "I wanted you."

Negan's eyes darkened slightly, and he came to stand in front of me. It seemed that during every interaction we had, I was sitting on this fucking couch. "You wanted me, huh?" A smirk slid onto his lips, and I sighed. God, he was taunting me. 

"You know what I mean. I wanted it, I wasn't kissing you for no reason. It's been a really long time since..."

"Since you've been with anyone. I know, sweetheart. Me, too."

I was surprised at the sudden change in tone of his voice. It had softened drastically, and he was looking down at me with gentle eyes. There was sadness hidden behind them. He could have been trying to hide it, but I knew better. Unlike other people, I could see right through him. The picture of the unnamed woman came to my mind, and I found myself looking at it again. Those pretty light eyes, that wonderful, bright smile. 

"Have you been with anyone since her?" I asked Negan, standing so that we were face to face. Well, almost. He still towered over me, even as I stood right in front of him. A look of hurt and surprise flashed across his face, but he didn't look at the picture. I gathered that he just couldn't, that it maybe pained him too much to do so. But if he couldn't take a peek at the picture, then what was it doing hanging up on his wall, all by itself, drawing so much attention? 

"It's okay to say that you haven't. I haven't looked at another man since Anthony. Granted, I couldn't find many men to look at." I mumbled and smiled. "And I had my kids to worry about, I was always unsafe, I had no want to be involved with anyone. But now I have nothing to worry about, nothing to care about. I don't care about myself or what happens to me. And I'm safe, right?" I didn't know where all of this is coming from all of a sudden. Negan was just staring down at me, not really looking into my eyes or anything. Just standing there and staring. I had struck something hard and painful within Negan by bringing up the woman in the picture.

"Did you love her?" I asked, my voice just barely above a whisper. Negan's eyes finally found mine and he nodded slightly.

"More than anything. But I was a careless fucking asshole and only cared about myself." My heart ached hearing his broken voice. I hadn't seen Negan like this before, never seen him so vulnerable and quiet, never so sad. I had only known him for a small number of days, but a part of me knew that he rarely never let himself break down in front of someone else's eyes like this. It occurred to me that this had quickly turned to a therapy session.

"She loved you?"

A quick nod, almost a smile. "She put up with my shit so much, always forgave me. God, she was a fucking saint. Probably would have screamed at me for killing a man, but she would have helped me get rid of the body afterwards. She was my best friend." 

I never expected any of these words to come out of Negan. It felt almost unnatural to have this man standing here in front of me, opening up about his past life. "She probably would have. If it was true love, she'd be able to look past anything you've done, which you make it sound like she has." Negan only nodded. "So, she would be happy if you were happy, now. There's something killing you inside, Negan. Let it go."

The man before me glanced down at my face, finally making true eye contact and noticing I was there. He let out a soft sigh and nodded slightly, reaching out and brushing my hair away from my neck. The touch felt nice, natural, and I only wanted to feel more of Negan against me. His other hand pressed gently against the side of my face, his thumb rubbing against my cheek, moving over to my lips, and they tingled at the memory of last night's touches shared between us. 

"Can I...?" He asked almost shyly, and a grin found its way onto my face. Oh, my God. I nodded and leaned into his touch, finally feeling his lips against mine. It was softer than I expected it to be, but I was relishing this moment so greatly. He held my face gently against his, and my arms around their way around his waist. Strong muscles flexed against my skin, and my finger tips moved slowly up his back, feeling every groove and bump of his spine. I heard him sigh softly against my lips, and goosebumps rose along his back at my touch, making me giggle quietly. 

Every ounce of fear and sadness had escaped me, and for once in my life, I felt completely and utterly protected, here in the arms of a man who was still nearly a stranger to me. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 12.31.2017
> 
> I lied, here is another chapter! (;  
> \---  
> ‘Revelation’ moodboards https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**I WENT ON**  a run with Negan and two other men the next morning. He had asked me to go with him and told me that he wanted me to get out of the Sanctuary, to get some fresh air and to keep myself busy. Because for some reason, he was able to realize that if I wasn't kept busy, if I had nothing to do here, I would probably lose my damn mind. I wasn't used to sitting around doing nothing. I always needed to do something. Negan brought up the run late the night before as we were laying together on his couch, after the events that ensued. It hadn't escalated too far, as we only intensely made out like two excited high school teenagers. I couldn't remember the last time I had been that happy, laying there with Negan as his arms were wrapped tightly around my body. The two of us nearly hung off the side of the couch as we struggled to fit ourselves there together. It was nearly perfect.

The temperature outside was much colder than I was used to on regular October mornings. I had to guess it was in the high forties, which was cooler than average for this part of Virginia in the early autumn. A warm jacket, courtesy of Negan, was zipped around my body, and my feet were warm inside my heavy black boots. Negan was bundled up in his usual leather jacket, a red scarf wrapped around his neck, matching black leather gloves on his hands that gripped the steering wheel of his old Suburban. The box truck, driven by David and Joe, drove behind us, keeping up with our speed. Lucille rested in between Negan and I, and an automatic weapon sat on my lap. I had initially felt uneasy when the weapon was handed to me. I had never fired one before, only a handgun which I was pretty good at using. It had gotten me out of a few situations, some worse than others. Negan only told me to just take the gun, just in case. Chances were, I wouldn't have to use it, he told me. I had a feeling that wouldn't be the case, though.

"We're taking a little drive out west, just two hours away, or so. There's a group about twice the size of ours, thirty or so people." He told me as we drove. "I'm gonna try to get them to merge with us, come back to the Sanctuary. We need to start building this place up, need more people with more skills."

"Kenny said you've had people watching them for a while," I nodded, my fingers tracing over the gun in my lap. The metal was cold against my skin, because of the coolness of the air outside. Negan refused to turn the heat on, to save the car's energy. I didn't blame him.

He snickered beside me. "Damn, that Kenny sure fucking tells you a lot of shit, doesn't she?"

"She doesn't tell me anything bad, just tells me the truth."

"Yeah, that's what I'm fucking afraid of." He mumbled and shook his head. Negan wouldn't be able to keep anything from me, and I think he was slowly starting to realize that. Sucks, Negan.

"You can't keep shit from me, I hope you know that," I smiled and reached over, patting his thigh gently. His eyes flickered down to where my hand rested, then over to me, and I could see the mischief behind them. I only smirked and tugged my hand away, rolling my eyes.

We only made it about forty five minutes up one of the main highways before we ran into trouble. Negan let out a curse and instantly stopped the Suburban, waving his hand out the driver side window to signal David and Joe to stop, also. Ahead of us we're dozens and dozens of biters, all roaming around and moaning, biting at the air. We were far back enough for the herd to not notice us. They hadn't heard the sound of the trucks just yet. Hopefully, they wouldn't at all.

 _"How many of them do you think there are, boss?"_  Came David's voice over the radio sitting between us on the front seat. Negan let out a sigh and eyed the herd in front of us before picking up the radio.

"Gotta be a least a fucking hundred of those mother fuckers. And I ain't wasting no fucking ammo, this is the only way I know to this fucking camp." He nearly growled into the speaker.

"If this is the only way then how do you suppose we get through that?" I asked Negan seriously. We couldn't drive right through it, we'd risk damage to the trucks and to ourselves. I'd tried it before with a poor little Ford Fiesta, and the engine was shot to shit. 

 _"Boss? Negan, what are we doing?"_  David's voice was nervous. But Negan was silent, he didn't utter a word. He just kept his eyes focused on the herd, watching them shuffle around, thinking of a way out of this situation. He eventually raised the radio back up to his lips.

"I'm waiting for an opening ahead. Follow my lead when I start driving, stay on my fucking ass. If things get hairy, shoot. But don't waste too much ammo." He tossed the radio back between us, and I looked at him in disbelief. 

"You're not really about to do this, are you?" I raised my eyebrows and scoffed. He shrugged slightly. "I'm sorry, but you're stupid." This time, Negan was the one staring at me in disbelief. Like he was so astounded by my vocabulary and how I was talking to him. "There's better ways around this. They're distracted by sound, so distract them. Set something on fire, make a noise, draw them away so the road is cleared."

He let out a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand over his face before he nodded and got out of the Suburban. Negan went back to the box truck to talk to Joe and David, telling them that we had a new plan to distract the herd to another area of the road, probably into the woods. I was filled with a huge feeling of satisfaction at the fact that I was able to change Negan's mind. I didn't believe that he would ever listen to another person's opinion, didn't believe that he would ever succumb to the pressure of my opposing strategy. I waited impatiently in the front seat of the car as he came back from the box truck with a hand grenade. My eyes widened at the weapon. And Negan quickly, without thinking, pulled the pin and threw the hand grenade with the arm of a baseball pitcher. He threw so hard, I lost sight of the grenade as it flew through the air over the highway and disappeared in the trees. Negan jumped back into the front seat, muttering a "cover your ears", and the grenade exploded. A deafening explosion sounded in the air, and I watched as the herd of biters turned their heads. They began making their way over to the other side of the highway, the hot flames and black smoke which swallowed the trees attracting them. 

Negan gripped the radio again, and yelled into it. "Alright, boys, let's go! Stay on my ass, drive right behind me!" I watched him in amazement as he put the Suburban in gear and stepped on the gas pedal. The car went flying forward, and we were off, driving quickly past the moving herd. I gripped onto the handle above the door with one hand, my other tightly holding onto the automatic gun on my lap. Surprisingly, we made it through the herd without a touch of damage to us, or the trucks. 

"Aren't you happy you listened to me?" I spoke up once we were safe and very much away from the biters. Negan just laughed and shook his head.

We eventually arrived at a camp, one that didn't have any gates. But it did have plenty of RVs. I could instantly spot about ten of them, a number that blew my mind, followed by a handful of camping tents set up around them. People were instantly alerted by the sound and sight of the Suburban and box truck. Men stood guard with their guns, watching us closely as we pulled up at the edge of their camp. Negan pat my leg and stopped the car, then grabbed Lucille. I slipped my gun over my shoulder and only exited the car when Negan did. 

A man with sandy hair that hung in front of his eyes stepped forward from the camp, aiming his weapon at us. Negan instantly put his hands up, and David and Joe followed up behind us. "Easy there, compadre." He smiled and rested Lucille against his soldier. "We want no trouble. Just wanna talk."

"Who the fuck are you? Coming right up to our camp like that. You got some nerve, bud." The sandy-haired man spoke loudly, eyeing up the four of us. I felt myself inch closer to Negan's side.

"Oh, shit. You're right, I'm sorry." Negan smiled and looked around, then turned back to the man in front of us. "Hi. I'm Negan. And I've been watching you folks for quiet some time. And, quite frankly, I'd like to take you bunch of people in, under my wing." He talked so openly, so confidently, the man he spoke to couldn't even open his own mouth to speak. "You see, Jackson--that is your name, right?--I've got a shit ton of supplies. Food, water, beds, clothes. Everything you could ever want or need. And it's only two hours away."

Jackson. That was his name. He stared at Negan, jaw nearly dropped to the ground. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, couldn't comprehend whatever the hell Negan was talking about. 

"How the hell do you know his name?" A woman asked, coming up alongside Jackson. She had red hair and fair skin, green eyes. She looked too young to be the man's significant other. 

"You hear what I said before, doll?" My stomach unhappily flipped at the nickname. That was mine. "I said we've been watching you, right? Right in those trees there, been doing it for a long fucking time. And it seems to me that you sorry fucks have been struggling. You got no food, no water. But we do. We've got plenty of shit for you to live off of, plenty of living space. Plenty of room for thirty more people, with room to spare. So, whaddaya say?"

They said yes. It didn't take much time at all for the camp to come up with their answer. Jackson and Negan disappeared into one of the RVs for a good hour before they came back out, smiling and clapping each other on the shoulders. It amazed me that a leader would accept an offer like this so quickly, possibly risking the lives of his thirty group members. But he did. Jackson did, and we waited for the group to quickly pack up their homes. Negan told the group that we could come back tomorrow to lead them back to the Sanctuary, but Jackson made it obvious that that wouldn't be necessary. They didn't have much to pack up, just those tents and campers. 

David and Joe led the way back to the Sanctuary on the way back from the camp. Negan and I drove behind everyone, behind the ten campers. It was a long haul, keeping up with the eleven vehicles in front of us. Joe and David kept Negan updated up at the front, and by the time we neared home, it was around three in the afternoon. I wasn't expecting the chaos there when we got back. Joe and David situated our new group members as Simon and Donnie waved Negan down at the loading dock. They were covered in blood. Blood on their hands, their shirts, their faces. Negan quickly scrambled out of the Suburban and grabbed Lucille, and I followed in suit. 

"Fiona's fucked up. She and Laura were hanging around outside of the gates doing God know's what. A walker attacked the two of them, Donnie took a shot, but he got Fiona instead. Right in the shoulder, and that fucking walker got her ankle before any one of us could do anything." The words tumbled out of Simon's mouth so quickly, I could barely keep up. Fiona was shot and bit. But Laura? I felt bad inside, realizing that I couldn't put a face to either of the two women.

"I can help. I was a nurse, Stanley and Jacqueline both know that." I spoke up quickly, offering myself up. Of course I would help. I liked helping, that's why I pursued a career in nursing. I was being dragged away from Negan by Simon, into the building and up to the infirmary. When we burst through the doors, Jacqueline was standing over Fiona, who was screaming and crying on a bed. Jacqueline pressed her hands against the wound on Fiona's neck, hushing the woman under her, trying to calm her down.

"Carolina! Thank god, get over here and hold her legs down. I need to take care of her ankle. It hasn't been long, I can save her before she turns. I just--"

"You're going to amputate her foot?" I asked in shock, moving over and holding Fiona's legs down to get her to stop squirming. 

"It's the only way I can keep her from dying!" He shouted and I put more pressure on her legs as he pulled back and started undoing his belt. He slipped it from around his waist and wrapped it around Fiona's calf, setting it tight in place. Oh my god, was this really happening right now? "Grab me something sharp. One of the blades, we need to keep this as clean as possible." 

My hands shook as I rummaged through supplies before finding a blade for Stanley to use on Fiona. My heart was racing, my mind working a million miles a minute. I had never done anything like this before. I was used to working under pressure in the emergency room and the ICU, but this? I had never cut off a person's limb, I wasn't a nurse in the operating room. I didn't do anything remotely close to this when a patient was wide awake. It happened so quickly. I was holding Fiona down as Jacqueline removed the bullet from Fiona's shoulder, and as Stanley cut into her skin. She didn't even scream. She passed out from the combined pain of her leg and shoulder, and I was crying. So hard. My hands shook, my heart pounded, and tears ran down my cheeks as the three of us were covered in blood from Stanley amputating Fiona's leg.

When all was done, Kenny found me. She saw the state I was in, took me up to my room, and helped me into the shower. I didn't know how quickly this day turned terrible. How was that even possible? I didn't understand, couldn't comprehend the events as they repeated over and over and over again in my head. Kenny made me wash the blood off my body and forced me to dress. Then she put me to bed. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 01.03.2018
> 
> Revelation moodboards: http://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**MY DREAMS THAT** night brought me all the way back to Bon Secours Memorial Regional Medical Center. I tossed and turned in my sleep as I dreamt about the walking dead, dressed in dirtied and bloodied night gowns, crawling and stumbling, running towards me with glazed-over eyes and rotting flesh. I pictured the girl from the elevator. Her limbs as they reached for me in a dim light, moaning and groaning, mouth dripping as she longes to feast on my skin.

_There was a loud, constant bang on the elevator doors, and I screamed at the top of my lungs, pushing and shoving at the little girl. There was no electricity to power up the elevator, no way to make the doors open automatically. Something began to pry the doors open, light emerging into the darkness around me. A shotgun's noise rang loud throughout the small area. A bullet hit the little girl square in the back of the head, and she collapsed in front of me._

_"Carrie!"_

_Anthony stood, dressed in his firefighter gear. Heavy, black flame-retardant pants, held up by black suspenders. A black jacket, weighing down his shoulders, opened to reveal his fire company's casual Class B t-shirt, with the company emblem. I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding, and rushed forward to wrap my arms around him. But I never met his body. Anthony kept appearing farther and farther in front of me, and as I ran forward, the lights of the hallway blew out, until there was only one. It shown down on Anthony, who was on his knees, kneeling with his head staring down at the ground. He was covered in sweat, his hair dripping into his face. He shook in front of me, fear evident in his eyes. I'd never seen him so terrified in his life._

_A deep laugh came from behind me, one so familiar it made my insides twist. It was darker than I'd ever heard it, and the man behind me let out an amused whistle. "Well, shit." He breathed out. Negan slowly walked past my body and crouched down in front of Anthony, holding Lucille casually in his two hands. "Look at fucking you. Pissin' our pants yet? Boy, do I have a feeling we're getting close. Oh yeah, it's gonna be Pee-Pee Pants City here, real soon." Negan let out another laugh and reached out, gripping Anthony's chin. "You ain't taking my woman. You, my friend, are gonna regret crossing me real fucking soon. This is my world, compadre, and you do not mess with the new world order. If you don't fucking know what it is, don't worry. It's really quiet simple. So pay a-fucking-ttention."_

_Negan let go of Anthony's chin roughly and stood, looking back at me before turning back to the terrified man in front of him. "Give me your shit, or I will kill you. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. Now, that might be a big and nasty pill to swallow, but swallow it you most certainly fucking will. You built something with this beautiful fucking woman, Tony, you thought you two were safe. Hell, you got your fucking kids killed, ain't ya? You ain't safe! Not even fucking close. You are so pegged, even more pegged if you don't do whatever the fuck I want, now. And what I want is half your shit, and this beautiful fucking woman."_

_"Fuck you, Negan." Anthony finally said, looking up at him with fearful eyes._

_Negan let out a howl of a laugh and slapped his knee. "Shit! Don't make me kill you, Antonio. I don't wanna kill you. I want you to work for me, but you can't work for me if you're dead, now can you? I'm not growing a damn garden here, I'm trying to grow something fucking great!"_

_"Fuck. You." Anthony only sighed and shook his head. "Just fucking kill me."_

_My eyes widened and I stumbled forward. "N-No! Don't do this, Negan, please."_

_But my voice was just a quiet whisper into the wind, and Negan didn't even look at me. He just sighed out and smiled down at Anthony, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, alright, buddy. I guess I can do that. If you fucking insist."_

_Strong, broad shoulders flexed under the black leather jacket which encased them, and Negan was slamming Lucille down onto Anthony's head. The wooden bat connected with Anthony's skull with a resounding crack, and I flinched at the sound. His body instantly fell to the ground, and I watched in horror as the taller man repeatedly beat the hell out of my husband. I sobbed uncontrollably, reaching for Negan, reaching for him to make him stop, but I couldn't. Him and Anthony were to far away, they were moving fast, and Negan just kept beating and beating and beating—_

_Finally, Negan's brutal actions halted, and he turned around, standing over Anthony's body, and the room was still. Lucille dripped with blood and brains caked into her wood and barbed wire. I shook where I stood, terrified of the man in front of me. But then he's eyes were softening, a gentle smile forming on his lips, and he was reaching out for me. Suddenly I wasn't afraid, despite what this man did to my husband, despite the scene that occurred just moments before as he beat the life out of Anthony. I reached out to him, but then he was gone, and the darkness of the hospital hallway consumed me._

∧∨∧

I found the energy and strength to roll out of bed the next morning. I didn't know what time it was, but knew it was late enough to notice the brightness shining in from the windows in my room. The sun must have been considerably high in the sky. The cafeteria was louder than I remembered before. Thirty new faces looked at me when I walked through the double doors, all slowly shoveling old oatmeal into their mouths. Kids nervously sat by their mothers, they all kept their eyes wide open, as if they were afraid of suddenly being attacked. But they seemed like a strong group with a strong leader. Jackson, I remembered. He was standing next to Simon and Negan in the middle of the room, and the three men talked quietly. Probably about business, living conditions, how all of this was going to work out. Kenny sat with her daughter Taylor at a small table, and smiled softly when our eyes met. I wondered if she noticed the bags under my eyes from my restless sleep. I was haunted yet again another night with terrifying nightmares. Last night was different, though. Last night wasn't a memory, but rather a creation of fiction in my mind. I had pictured Negan brutally killing my husband. I didn't want to see Negan in that way. He was more than just vulgar words and violence. I haven't even seen him act out violently. Maybe he wasn't as bad as my dream thought he was.

Stanley stood up from a table that he sat at with his wife. Jacqueline watched me sadly, more than likely thinking about what had happened last night. I found myself walking over to the two of them, and Stanley placed his hand on my arm when I arrived there.

"How is Fiona doing?" I asked quietly. The memories of holding her down, watching Stanley cut into her leg, nearly sawing her foot and ankle off, ran through my mind.

"She's alive. I think we really helped her yesterday. We took care of the problem before anything bad happened. Laura's been with her all night, she feels like what happened to Fiona was her own fault." He told me gently, then squeezed my arm. "Thank you for helping out. I know it wasn't an easy situation, know you've probably never seen anything like that happen before."

I nodded. "I worked in a hospital for years, but I've never had to witness that. I wasn't a scrub nurse, wasn't a surgeon. If anything was ever amputated in the hospital, they patient was out, under anesthetics."

"I know, I've been a doctor for a very long time. The first time I had to do something like that... God." He shook his head at the thought. Then he looked back to me once more. "You really helped save her, so thank you. She'll be okay. Just needs our help to get used to things, now." With one last pat on my arm, Stanley left the cafeteria, Jacqueline slowly following behind him.

Kenny brought me a bowl of oatmeal and a small cup of barely warm instant coffee. It tasted like shit, but I needed it, or else I probably would have fallen asleep right at the table. The cafeteria eventually started emptying out as some of the original group members took the newer ones around, going off to show them the Sanctuary and what it had in store for all of them. I laid my head down against my arms on the table in front of me and closed my eyes. Just for a moment. It grew quiet around me, and I was thankful for that. I tried to shake the image of a bloodied Negan and Lucille, dirtied with the blood and insides of my deceased husband. The look on Negan's face as he bashed his bat down over and over. The dark laugh that rumbled in his chest.

"Mind if I join you, sweetheart?" The rough and familiar voice made me flinch. I peeked an eye open and spotted Negan towering over me, Lucille propped against his shoulder, in his usual stance. She was clean, looking nothing like the way she was in my nightmare.

"Go on." I nodded into my arms and closed my eye again, letting out a sigh. I felt Negan sit down in the plastic chair next to me and scoot himself closer so that our bodies were nearly touching. The sound of wood and metal settling down against the table made my stomach twist. "How's the new group?"

I heard Negan lean back in his chair casually, and knew he was watching me. "Polite and grateful. Turns out their head man Jackson ain't too big of an asshole. I swear, I think he may be trying to suck my cock for me taking him and his people in."

I chuckled and turned my head so that it was still resting against my arms, but now I could see Negan sitting next to me. Despite the nightmare, I wanted to look at him. Wanted to watch who I was talking to. His hair was slicked back neatly, and his leather jacket was unzipped, exposing a black t-shirt underneath. The red scarf was unraveled around his neck.

"They seem useful yet? Skilled?" I questioned curiously. It'd be unfortunate if we took in thirty new people with not once of unique and skillful talent.

"I talked with Mr. Boss man earlier this morning," Negan told me. "Said they got a few teachers, some former farmers. That's good shit, we need that shit. Also got an ex-Marine, son of a bitch is great with a gun. A police officer, another doctor and a nurse. They all just fucking suck at protecting themselves as a group. Jackson ain't shit of a leader compared to me. Their group used to be bigger, told me he got about ten others killed. What a fucking douchebag."

"It's a good thing you found them, then. Can't have anyone else in this world dying." I sighed. Negan reached out and placed a hand against my back. He held it there momentarily before rubbing my back gently, soothingly. It was a complete and opposite contrast from his actions that took place in my dream last night. _I need to stop comparing him to that. That isn't Negan. He wouldn't do that._

But it was Negan, and he would do that. I thought back to the cigar tin filled with Polaroids depicting gruesome scenes, bashed in skulls, bloodied lumps of flesh. I thought back to something Negan refereed to days ago. They looked like _dog food._ It pained me inside to know that this man could cause such fear and destruction. It was only those handful of times, right? Just what I'd seen in the cigar tin? A part of me knew that that wasn't the case. Negan was a powerful man, one that got drunk on his own control, one that probably acted irrationally when his anger got the best of him.

"Scared me real bad last night, doll. Heard you crying and screaming from down the hallway during the night. Woke me the hell up." Negan mumbled, his hand still rubbing circles into my back. "I went down to check on you, got you to stop crying. I don't think you knew I was there, though."

I shook my head and blinked. Well shit. "No. I didn't know. I'm sorry, didn't mean to wake you. Just had a real shitty night."

"Because of Fiona?" Negan asked me, and I realized that he hadn't even been there in the makeshift infirmary to witness what was happening, what Stanley, Jacqueline and I had to do.

"That probably had to do with it. I just have real bad dreams, all the time. They don't really seem to go away." I told him slowly.

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Don't think they ever really will, sweetheart. Mine fucking don't. Haven't stopped since the beginning of all of this."

I didn't know what to say, didn't know how to deal with what he just told me. I could relate to him on so many levels and knew what he was going through, because I was going through the same exact thing. But I wanted to know more. Wanted to ask, wanted to beg him to tell me more about his life before all of this. I knew he lost his wife, but how? When? Where? What were the circumstances? It occurred to me that he barely knew anything about my first moments in this fucked up world. He had the ideas, but he really knew nothing about me. My eyes glanced around us. We were the only once's left in the vacant cafeteria. Negan pulled his hand away from my back and sat back in his chair again, letting out a small sigh.

"I think it's time I told you about Lucille."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 01.04.2018
> 
> Stuck at home in a huge blizzard because winter in the Northeast SUCKS! So, what a wonderful opportunity to post another chapter (: It's a shorter one, but an important one. Hope you all enjoy.
> 
> \---  
> Revelation moodboards: http://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**A HEAVY SILENCE** fell over both Negan and I. _"I think It's time I told you about Lucille."_ My eyes flickered to the weapon sitting in front of us on the table, and then I leaned back, pulling away and sitting straight in my chair. Negan wouldn't look at me, he just stared at his baseball bat. Lucille.

_Lucille._

"One day after school, I was playing ping-pong with some of my students in my garage. Good ass kids. They were sensitive as hell, though, cried over the way I spoke to them. You know me, can't keep my fucking mouth shut for the fucking life of me. Anyways, she came running into the garage, yelling at me and giving me a hard time because some of these kids' parents were calling up the school, making a big deal and complaining about my stupid fucking vulgarity. She thought they were gonna fire me, gave me this huge talk. The whole shebang." Negan waved his hand in the air and shook his head. "One moment she's talking at me, the next shes having a fucking seizure on the god damn floor of the garage. Man, I started screaming and crying like a fucking child, one of our neighbors called 9-1-1. They ran so many tests on her at the hospital, couldn't figure out what was going on until this specialist finally came forward and told us she had cancer."

I pictured a broken Negan in my mind, sitting at the bedside of his wife, crying. I couldn't look at him next to me. I didn't want to see his facial expression, and was afraid of losing my own emotions if I did. 

"I'd been cheating on her." Negan told me after a long pause. "Was fucking this blonde bitch who worked in the school district. _She wasn't even pretty,_ Carolina. But I cheated on my wife with her, to--I don't fucking know. I don't know why I did it. Maybe to forget about Lucille being sick, to deal with the situation in my own way. I don't fucking know." I finally turned to look at Negan. He sat in the plastic chair beside me with his hands placed flat on the table, staring down at them, seeming so sadly detached. "One night I decided to this bitch that Lucille was sick, and that she was dying. She kicked me out of her house so fucking fast, called me a loser and told me to never speak to her again. Man, I was a loser. But then I went back home to Lucille, and I realized that I didn't want anything else but her. Lucille knew that I was cheating on her, and I told her when I broke it off with that woman, and _Lucille got mad at me._ She cried and cried and told me I was stupid as hell for choosing the "sick one." How fucked up is that? She wanted me to keep seeing this woman because she knew she was going to die eventually. Anyways, I tried concentrating on her more, spent more time with her. I took her to all of her appointments for chemo, all of her little checkups. She wasn't getting any better, and at one point she just completely gave up. Had to put her on life support, no one knew if she'd ever be able to come back from that. I was so distracted by her and her illness that I didn't pay any attention to the news or what was going on outside of the hospital."

My blood ran cold. I had a gut-wrenching feeling that I knew where this was going. Had Negan been at the hospital with Lucille when the world began to end?

"One afternoon this fucking nurse dude runs into the room and tries to get me to leave, telling me they're evacuating the hospital. I told him he was fucking crazy, that I wasn't going to leave my dying fucking wife. But you know what he told me? He told me to get out of there, that she wasn't worth risking my life for. She was dead anyway. I look out the window of her room and I swear to Jesus Christ above, it was like one of those apocalyptic movies or some shit. People running around with food supplies and shot guns, these government dudes shooting these sick-looking fuckers in the forehead. I was so focused on Lucille that I didn't even hear about the outbreak. Knew that it started out with a few people here and there, but I didn't know it was already spreading all over the fucking place. When I turned around from the window, I heard Lucille fall out of bed, and obviously that freaked me the fuck out, because she was supposed to be completely out and hooked up on life support. There was no way she could have been awake." Negan shook his head and rubbed his face slowly, eyebrows knit together as he thought back to the very day he was speaking about. I hadn't said a word in a long while, but this was Negan's turn to talk. I stayed quiet, but reached out and set a hand on his thigh, silently encouraging him to continue.

"I had to pull that obnoxious fucking tube out of her mouth because I thought she was choking on it--she was making all these kinds of sounds that were really freaking me the fuck out. But then I noticed her eyes," he stopped and shut his own momentarily, "they were all white and fogged over, and then she was reaching for me and snapping her fucking teeth at me. She wanted to _kill me,_ Carolina. She was trying to, and she would have, if I didn't get the fuck out of there as fast as I could." He opened his eyes again and glanced down at my hand on his thigh, and I squeezed gently to let him know I was still listening.

"It's okay," I mumbled. "You can go on."

I could see it in his eyes that he needed some time to recollect his thoughts, to finish getting back to his story. "I found this kid out by the nurses' station. He had killed a few of those fuckers out there in the hallways. He just lost his mom, had to kill her, too. I didn't put Lucille down. He did. I asked him to, and he did, and that was that. We left the hospital together, and I was going to give him a ride somewhere safe, but he was bit in the middle of the parking garage. After that, when I was on my own, I just kept losing person after person. It pissed me the fuck off. It was like no one was even trying to live, they just kept fucking dying and dying. All these survivors I came across--no, actually. _Suvivors_. Fuck that. They never actually earned that fucking title. I met nothing but a long line of people who just couldn't fucking push through for the ones they loved and cared about. They just died." He shook his head and looked over at me.

"Lucille meant everything to me. I didn't even know it at the time, didn't even realize it, at least. God, I was such a mother fucking piece of shit to her, Carolina. It wasn't until the very end, until she was gone, that I really knew what that woman meant to me. And when I realized how much she meant to me, I learned something. I learned that being around all those people, watching them die, one after the other, because they were too fucking scared and weak, and sad..." He lost his train of thought briefly, stopping short, his eyes searching my face for the words he wanted to say. "I felt nothing for them. I wasn't scared or angry or sad. It took me a long while to realize it was all because of Lucille. She... protected me. Put me and my mind in this fucking bubble. She made me stronger, helped me to keep on living."

Neither of us said anything else for a long time. I found myself leaning into Negan's side between our two chairs, and I wrapped an arm around him, resting my head against his arm, feeling the cool leather against my cheek. My other hand began to rub small circles into his leg, like he had done before against my back. Just trying to be soft and soothing, to show him that I cared. I felt like Negan needed that. He needed someone to show him encouragement, comfort, sympathy. Someone to just show him they they understood what he was going through. Negan had closed himself off from everyone, he had told me that he felt nothing for those who he found himself moving along with during the past few years. He was accustomed to death and was used to everyone leaving him. He didn't get attached to others, because he knew that they would die sooner or later. It was all starting to make sense to me. Negan's power and control, his need for being in charge, showing others right from wrong, his leadership. He was showing these people how to survive, and gave them the drive to want to do so. And maybe he wasn't so insane for naming his baseball bat. It was in memorial of his late wife, the one who gave him his strength and _his own drive to survive._

"You're an amazing man, Negan." I mumbled against his arm, and I felt him shake slightly as he let out a weak chuckle.

"I'm a terrible fucking man, Carolina. I'm the biggest asshole anyone's ever fucking met."

"You're just doing what you can to survive. it's all you know." I smiled.

Negan looked sideways at me and let out a scoff. "Are you admitting that I'm an asshole?" He asked me, amused. I was happy to see the change in his mood. I just wanted to see him smile.

"You're not wrong when you say you're an asshole. Because you are. A giant asshole. But you wouldn't be Negan if you weren't one. I also don't think I'd like you as much if you weren't an asshole." I nudged him. Negan only smiled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, leaned in, and pressed a kiss to my temple. 

"You're awfully good at this, sweetheart." His other hand found its way to cover my own, resting against his leg. An explosion of butterflies erupted in my stomach, and I could feel my cheeks heating up slightly. 

"Good at what?"

"Comforting. Giving people a shoulder to cry on. Making people want to care again. You make me want to be good all the time." Negan admitted.

I tilted my head up in order to catch his eye. He was looking down at me with this specific expression. Calm, collected, but it looked as if he were almost in awe, like he was looking at something so incredible. I hadn't seen a look like that in a very long time. And it made me feel amazing realizing that the person making Negan feel like this was _me_. Negan needed me. He needed someone to make him stay grounded. I could do that for him. More importantly, _I wanted to do that for him._ So I decided that I was. I was going to do everything in my power to be there for him, to be his friend, to help him through anything and to remind him that he was _good._


	16. IMPORTANT NOTICE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTICE: PLEASE READ!!!

Hello to all of my Revelation readers (:

 

It’s obvious that there’s been a long while since I’ve last updated, but I haven’t given up on the story!

Unfortunately I’ve had a family member in the hospital for the past week, and they’re expected to still be there for a while longer. Because of this, I haven’t had as much time to sit down and write more. And even when I do have time, it’s hard for me to write because of stress and so many things going on in my mind. 

This is a message to let everyone know that I WILL continue to write more when things settle down and when I have the time. I will also be creating more moodboards for the most recent chapters soon. So, expect those to come before any more newly updated chapters! 

Thank you all for the incredible feedback on Revelation. And thank you for understanding my current situation!

Love you all (: —Sarah 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 01.29.18
> 
> Guess who’s back (for now)!
> 
> It’s been a super long time since I’ve last updated, maybe close to a month, because of a family emergency. My family member in the hospital is slowly starting to get better but there’s been setback after setback and I’ve been extremely stressed, so writing is very hard for me at the moment.
> 
> I’ve decided to try to write a bit, though. Here I have for you an extremely short chapter, but at least it’s somerhing! You all deserve it from the long break. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience. Enjoy this tiny update (:
> 
> ((UNEDITED))  
> -  
> Revelation moodboards (UP TO DATE!):  
> http://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

Jackson and his group had been living at the Sanctuary for two weeks, proving themselves useful and trustworthy to Negan. Simon and Negan instantly began assigning jobs to people left and right, finding people to work on food-duty with Emily, more caregivers and teachers for the new number of children we had, and arming capable men and women with automatics to stand guard around the Sanctuary, and to fight alongside Negan if need be. Jackson found himself accompanying Negan's original men on runs, collecting food and medical supplies every other day from places marked in Negan's extensive collection of maps. Meanwhile, I often ended up taking care of the injured and ill with Stanley and Jacqueline in the infirmary. With an added thirty people, the Sanctuary was now home to nearly fifty men, women, and children. Which meant more people to look after, and more people to protect. Fiona was still slowly recovering from her biter attack, and we kept a close eye on her leg every second of the day. She was constantly running fevers, her body fighting hard to heal itself from the shock and trauma it endured.

I had nearly yelled at Negan one night for not having enough antibiotics in the infirmary. The tablets, capsules, and IV bags had been running dangerously low, and we had only been using them all on one single person.

"Fiona may not make it another few weeks." I sighed, sitting up in bed and looking down at the man below. Negan was laid back causally against his fluffy sheets, head resting against his arms on his pillows as he stared up at me.

"Why's that? She's been doing fine. You've kept her alive for the past two weeks." He mumbled absentmindedly. It was late, and it had been a rough day. Not only for me, but for him as well. Negan and Simon were currently struggling hard to seek out more survivors beyond the Sanctuary. He was planning on building the place up quick, but that wouldn't be possible if there were no one around to fill it up with.

I ran my fingers through my hair, untangling the knots that had worked their way into the strands. "She hasn't been doing fine. She's alive, but she's not fine at all. Her body is fighting an infection from the amputation."

"Well you should know that this isn't a hospital, Carolina." My eyes flickered down to Negan. His hair was disheveled from constantly running his hands through it during tiny fits of stress and frustration. His white t-shirt rode up his body, and a sliver of tanned, muscular abdomen looked at me invitingly. "Shit ain't sterile here, of course her stump's gonna get infected."

I let out a gasp and brought a hand down on his chest harshly. "Jesus, Negan, don't talk like that. We need more antibiotics. A lot more, because we're running out fast. She's going through an IV bag of antibiotics a day, when she would be going through two if she was under my care at the hospital." I told him. Negan unfolded an arm from behind his head and rested a hand on top of mine, intertwining our fingers together on his chest.

My stomach filled with butterflies at the small gesture, which still blew my mind each day. It had been a little over two weeks since our deep encounters and exchanges of kisses. We hadn't spoken about them at all. We just fell into this new movement of touching and kissing when we were alone, and being closer to each other when we weren't. It hasn't been discussed. It just happened. And for now, I could deal with it. I was okay with it all. I'm sure he was, too.

"I can't promise you IV bags, Carolina. The closest hospital is close, but we've already ransacked the entire fucking thing, took as much shit as we could." He told me. "Other parts of the place were too fucked up to get through. Those motherfuckers are all over the place, and we can't waste ammo."

"So then let's go to the next hospital we can find. We need these medications if we want to keep Fiona alive. We need them if we're going to be supporting life here, Negan. You've got about fifty people here and you're looking to take even more in..."

He let out a huff and glanced up at me, his warm eyes finding my own. “You know that’s gonna be a long and fucking hard trip, right?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. I nodded instantly. “You know I’m gonna have to sacrifice my leadership by leaving the Sanctuary for days, letting Jackson run around? Do you think I can trust that fucker just yet?”

“I say you can. He’s proven to be trustworthy so far. He doesn’t question anything you say, does everything you tell him to, doesn’t get in your way. I say you can trust him.” I said confidently, slightly smiling.

“We don’t have many medical professionals here. I can’t take Stanley, he’s the best fucking doctor we’ve got.”

“So take me.” I shrugged.

Negan sat up, pulling his hand away from mine. “Fuck no, you’re staying right fucking here.” His eyebrows furrowed stressfully, and I could see worry written in the lines of his hard face.

“No I’m not. Have you forgotten that I’m not all that fragile, Negan? I survived on my own for years, without the help of anyone. I can get my hands a little dirty.”

His hand reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear, then he tipped my chin up so that I was looking right up at him. “You’re not fucking going. Don’t fucking question me.”

A sudden feeling of fear washed over me as I watched Negan become dominant and serious in front of me. He was a protective man, especially over his own people here at the Sanctuary. And no one ever questioned him or went against his authority. But I wasn’t no one. And he wasn’t used to me being no one.

I gently pried his grasp away from my chin and looked up into his eyes. “What’s the name of the medication Fiona’s on? What’s the strength of it?”

“Do I look like cock-sucking Derek Shepherd to you?” Negan groaned.

“No, you’re prettier.”

“Fuck you. Just make a list of the shit we need to find, Carolina.”

I shook my head and smoothed back his dark, disbelieved hair away from his forehead. “You’re a stubborn man, Negan.” Leaning up, I brushed my lips against his own, causing him to let out an annoyed and defeated sigh. “I’m going with you. Ready whenever you are.”

”You’re annoying as fucking sin, baby girl.” Negan mumbled against my lips, and when he pulled me down into his lap, I knew that I had won. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 01.31.18
> 
> Don't know why, but I'm really anxious to post this one. Hope you all enjoy (:
> 
> (UNEDITED)
> 
> 'Revelation' moodboards: https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**NEGAN WAS NOT**  happy at all with the idea of me accompanying him and Simon on a trip outside of the Sanctuary. The hospital we were planning on hitting up was about three hours away, one that Negan was positive still had many supplies. The only problem was the amount of biters still roaming around there. We would need to be extremely careful and heavily armed when venturing inside of the hospital. We couldn't risk anyone getting hurt. We couldn't risk anyone getting bit. 

The next morning, I found myself being woken up to a pounding on my bedroom door. My eyes fluttered open at the harsh noise, and I let out a sigh, finally yelling out a fatigued, "Alright, already!" when the pounding became consistent. 

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!" Came Simon's roaring voice. "Mr. Boss Man needs you up and at 'em, sister. And put a little skip in your step, Boss don't like being kept waiting." While he was talking, I pulled myself out of bed and walked into my living area before yanking the door open. My hair was stuck up in all directions, and a tired and very much annoyed pout rested on my lips. "We got a long and hard day ahead of us, I hope you got your beauty sl--" I shut the door in his face before groaning and trudging off to my bathroom. God, I love it when people rudely awaken me.

When I knew Simon was gone, my entire mood changed for the better. If anything, I wasn't afraid for this hospital run. I was excited. I had been on a run before, but that was only mostly to collect Jackson and his people. Today I would be with Negan and Simon, and most likely another few strong men and women who knew what they were doing. We'd go to a potentially deadly place, most likely run into problems, but it made me ready to see how Negan would react in those situations. I'd never seen him take control of a situation a few times, but it had only been the two of us right after he had saved me. I'd never seen him out and about, controlling his men as Negan. I wanted to see it in person. 

After taking a short short, I dried my hair as best as I could before braiding it back and changing into the sturdiest pair of jeans I could find, and the warm camouflage henley I had worn multiple times before. It was officially a Virginia-cold autumn, and I needed to stay as warm as possible during our trip. I slid a knife into my right boot, collected my butterfly knife from my dresser, and bundled up in the warm winter coat Negan had given me. 

I found him outside, black leather jacket zipped up as far as it could go, his neck wrapped up in his signature red scarf as he tried to keep warm. Lucille was hanging by his side as he stood there stiffly with his arms crossed over his chest, watching his men prepare a pickup truck and a box truck. Simon was sipping on a styrofoam cup of most likely cold coffee, as Paula loaded up the box truck with necessary items and supplies for our trek. It was only around nine in the morning now, but we didn't know what trouble we may run into later of the day. Negan watched closely as a young man and women from Jackson's group stood nervously near Paula. I guess they'd be coming along as well. 

Turning my eyes back to Negan, I saw his jaw tense as he observed the newcomers. I stepped forward quietly and raised my hand, carefully brushing it against his back. His body nearly flinched at the incredibly light gesture, but his shoulders relaxed when he soon realized just who had snuck up on him. 

"I know you're mad at me," I mumbled, leaning my cheek against his cold leather-clad arm. "But you won't regret taking me. I need exposure."

"You've had exposure for the past few years." His gruff voice huffed out, and I sighed.

"Not with you, though. I need you to trust me, just like I trust you. I trust you to keep me safe, and you need to believe that I can defend myself, as well. I've been doing so for a very long time. All on my own."

Negan didn't reply right away. He kept quiet, continuing to judge the young man and women who were accompanying us on our run. Eventually, he unfolded his arms from across his chest and wrapped the hand that wasn't holding Lucille around my shoulders. I smiled triumphantly and peered up at his tall form. "You're killing me, baby." He shook his head, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips. 

The two of us occupied the pickup truck while Simon, Paula, and the two new members whose names I learned were Dominic and Winnie, piled into the box truck. There clearly wasn't enough room for the four of them, but Negan insisted on riding in the pickup truck, and made it clear that it would only be him and I. Our trek was long and incredibly boring, and it seemed too good to be true that we could possibly survive it without any problems. Problems were bound to occur, sooner or later. Maybe this was just the calm before the storm.

I held a large map in front of me, resting it against my out-stretched legs, my feet propped up against the dash. I was directing us to our destination flawlessly, a job that wasn't too difficult because it was nearly a straight shot on a few different highways. They were mostly cleared off, since they weren't major roadways, save for one that detoured us because of a large pileup of cars and biters. Negan popped an old Pink Floyd CD into the sound system of the truck at the beginning of our trip, so we were accompanied by the sounds of Roger Waters and psychedelic tunes. 

It was just past noon when we finally pulled up to the Emergency entrance. It was old and run-down, the past few years of zero up-keeping really taking a toll on the building's appearance. It had been so long since I had been in a hospital, I realized when I sat in the passenger seat, staring out at the large and towering building in front of us. Although it wasn't my exact location of former employment, a sad and heavy feeling ripped through my chest.

Negan cleared his throat next to me and turned off the car, cutting Roger off mid-lyric as he sang to Shine on You Crazy Diamond. A quietness filled the car, and I decided to fold the map up before grabbing my automatic resting on the seat between us. 

A hand reached out, covering my wrist firmly to stop me from getting out of the truck. Negan's eyes were fixed on mine, and he seemed almost desperate for me to stay behind. "Are you absolutely positive you want to do this, Carolina?" He questioned, and I instantly gave him a nod.

"I'm doing this for Fiona. And for everyone else back at the Sanctuary." 

"You barely know them. You haven't been living with us for a very long time, sweetheart. You really wanna risk your life for a bunch of people you barely even know?"

I ripped my wrist away from his grasp, maybe a little too forcefully. "I'm capable of protecting myself, Negan. I'm not weak, I'm actually a very strong and smart woman. I lost three of the most important things in my life, and two of them were ripped away from me so quickly, I had no idea what was going on. I was helpless then. But now I'm not. So if you're giving me the opportunity to start my life over again with you at the Sanctuary, I'm going to do everything I can to protect those I live with. Now, come on."

That shut him up really fucking fast. I was out of the pickup truck and slinging the gun over my shoulder before he could even grasp what was occurring and what I had said. Simon, Paula, Dominic, and Winnie exited the box truck and met us at the entrance to the ER, and I looked inside of the destroyed sliding glass doors. 

"Everyone careful, now." Negan mumbled before banging Lucille against the bent metal of the door frames. From inside the building came shuffling and groaning as biters made their way toward us, obviously attracted to the noise made. When they were close enough, we began shooting. One by one, the dead creatures fell to the ground, nearly black blood and rotting brain matter splattering around as the bullets struck their heads. Negan slammed his bat down repeatedly, taking out biters, shoving them away, attacking others. Lucille's spiked wire would pull back flesh as she ripped and bit into the dead, and soon, the weapon was dripping in thick blood. My eyes danced across the wooden bat and focused on Negan's body, completely mesmerized by his violent actions. It made me sick to my stomach that for some reason, seeing him wielding the bat this way excited me. As long as it wasn't another human being, as long as it wasn't someone who could talk, think, have feelings.

When the biters were cleared from the entrance, Simon, Paula, and the new kids carefully maneuvered themselves through the glass doors. Negan urged me forward, his hand at the small of my back as he helped me. Hospital beds littered with dead and rotting bodies lay scattered throughout the room, making me reach up to covering my nose and mouth with my jacket. The entire hospital absolutely reeked of death.

"Simon, you and Winnie take out the first floor. Dominic, go with Paula. Second floor. Fucking listen to her, and do whatever she tells you to do. You're her fucking bitch today, don't go pulling some misogynistic bullshit with her. She'll break your fucking balls off." Dominic stiffened as Negan spoke to him, and he only nodded quickly. "Read your lists, pay attention to them. I don't want this trip to all be for nothing, you fucking got me?" Simon and Paula nodded before heading off in their own directions, leaving Negan and I together alone.

"Third floor?" I raised my eyebrows at him. He nodded shortly before tightening his hold on Lucille and starting off to find a stairwell. I followed close behind him, my gun up and ready to fire it if anything tried to start any shit with us. My eyes wandered around us carefully, taking in every single little detail possible. Dead bodies littered the floors, some dead still alive but trapped under debris, some decapitated as they still groaned and bit at the air. One of my hands reached out, gripping the back of Negan's jacket tightly as I avoided stepping near the biters. Negan led us to an open stairwell so well, as if he knew the hospital by heart. 

The third floor was eerily quiet. The afternoon sunlight shown through breaks in the windows and walls, illuminating the area around us. I instantly spotted a nurse's station, and I was filled with hope as I realized the entire layout was nearly identical to the one I was used to in Richmond.

"I'm going to check this area out. You go, look around. I'll be okay." I whispered to Negan, squeezing his upper arm before walking away from him. He said no words, but watched as I disappeared from his sight. 

The station was surprisingly filled with many supplies. I unzipped my heavy coat and pulled the compact and thin bag from one of the inner pockets. The Sanctuary had been low on duffel bags, but this laundry sack was good enough to carry what I needed. Kneeling next to a supply cabinet, I rummaged through the IV drip bags, grabbing whichever ones looked necessary. The word  _Vancomycin_  finally stood out, and I sighed happily at the antibiotics. "Finally." I mumbled, shoving them into the laundry bag. 

It took me nearly no time at all clearing out the nurse's station. I had collected many IV bags, new IV tubes, and other necessary medical supplies like bandages, ointments, and splints. I pulled the bag over my shoulder and held my gun carefully, walking about the halls as I searched for Negan. He was somewhere on this floor, but it was too quiet. Each of the rooms I checked proved to be empty, save for a few biters either dead or a live. I had stabbed a few in the head without causing much noise, then moved onto the next rooms to find Negan. 

I eventually did. He was standing in the middle of a hospital room, silently staring down at the floor in front of him. The hospital bed was blocking what he was looking at, and a ventilator machine stood next to the bed, a dozen wires and tubes loosely hanging. I was familiar with the set up. Whoever last occupied the room was on life support.

"I got everything we need. It's more than enough, we shouldn't have to stay up here much longer." I said, taking a few steps toward him. Negan didn't budge as he continued to stare down in front of him. I slowly came up next to him, afraid of what I might see. I knew that many things didn't and couldn't make Negan speechless. 

A rotting mess of a human being laid in a heap in between the hospital bed and the window. She had no hair, wore a blue and white hospital gown, and had a large chunk of her head missing. Her skull had been bashed in with something heavy. But that's not what made me gasp. I glanced up at Negan and noticed the red and teary eyes, his cheeks slightly damp from emotion. The woman laying on the ground was the woman from the picture frame, hanging on Negan's living room wall. It was her, his wife. And this was her final resting place. 

_It was Lucille._


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 01.31.18
> 
> Double update today yay! Leave a comment with your thoughts on this chapter!
> 
> (UNEDITED)
> 
> 'Revelation' moodboards: https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**NEVER IN A** million years did I ever think I would see someone as strong, powerful, sarcastic, and hot-headed as Negan, cry. I couldn't paint the picture in my brain, couldn't fathom the concept of it. Negan was strength, loudness, confidence. He wasn't tears. At least, that's what he made everyone who knew him think. That was the impression he was trying to make. Because, no, terrifying Negan couldn't cry. Negan wasn't human, didn't show emotions.

But he did. And I watched as the fat tears welled up in his eyes, as he stared down at his late wife. The one who had been battling cancer, who he cheated on, who was put on life support and passed away in this very room, only to wake up as a complete monster, nearly killing her husband. The image pained me deeply, but I didn't know which movement to make. I didn't know whether to hug him, grab his hand, or to speak. So I stayed silent, standing there beside him as he stared down at Lucille.

Eventually, Negan inched closer and gently placed his bloodied bat down on the hospital bed before kneeling down beside Lucille on the floor. I noticed the slight shake of his hands, how his eyes didn't seem to know where to land in front of him. The oxygen tubes were still hanging around her face, connected to her nostrils, and I was almost expecting her to blink up at us. But her eyes were barely there. Her entire self was barely there, and I wondered just how it was possible for these biters to go years without completely decomposing and turning to bone. It was just heaps of rotting flesh and guts. That's all it was. 

"I shouldn't have brought us here." An unfamiliar voice spoke. It was laced with so much guilt, sadness, and regret. I barely recognized it as being Negan's.

I willed myself to step forward and placed a hand on his shoulder gently, rubbing into the tight knots. "You don't need to live like this anymore, Negan." I whispered, bringing my hand up to his head, where I stroked back his hair. "You don't need to live your life filled with all of this guilt. Lucille would be happy if you let go. So, please. Let go of this guilt and anger. Do it for her, and for yourself." 

I would pray for Negan tonight. I would pray for him to find peace with himself for all of the terrible things he did to others, and to Lucille. The anger he held inside of him would kill him, maybe not literally, but figuratively. Emotionally. He would lose himself and everything dear to him if he continued to let the hurt consume him. 

Negan roughly ran the back of his hand across his face, wiping away the few tears that had fallen. He let out a deep breath, took one last look at Lucille, and then grabbed his bat, turning away and heading out of the hospital room. I was left standing there in a daze, confused at his sudden determination to escape the room. My eyes scanned over his late wife's body once more before I followed him out.

"Quit whatever you're doing and start making your way out of the building. We've got what we need. Meet us back at the trucks." Negan was leaning against the dilapidated nurse's station, speaking roughly into a radio. When his eyes caught mine, he clipped the radio back onto his waist and reached for the laundry bag I held, full of all of the supplies I had gathered. 

"Negan, are you okay?" I placed a hand on his forearm just as he was about to turn and lead us to the stairwell. "Please talk to me."

"I can't talk about this right now, sweetheart." He mumbled, gently pulling his arm away from my grasp. "Let's just get out of here, okay? Let's go home."

Home. That's what the Sanctuary was now, wasn't it? It was my home. It was safe and sound there, too huge for anything to penetrate its walls and destroy. I once told myself that I'd never have a home again. Any place without Anthony, Allison, and Carter was no home to me. But, Negan made the word sound so good. 

And so we went. The two of us carefully made our way toward the elevators where the stairwell opened up. Just as Negan reached for the door handle, a groaning body came stumbling out of the dark, open elevator doors, nearly falling right on top of me. I let out a shriek, backing quickly away and fumbling for my gun to shoot it. My hands shook too hard, though, and the biter had enough strength to tackle me to the ground, its teeth snapping only centimeters from my face.

"Jesus, fuck!" Negan shouted, hauling back and smacking the end of Lucille down against the biter's head, cakey blood and flesh splattering against my skin. The body collapsed heavily on top of me, and I used all of my strength to shove it off of me, breathing heavily. 

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Negan growled as he reached out, helping me up. A dozen biters came staggering down the hallway toward us, reaching out desperately for their next meal. My heart began to pound, and I gripped Negan's hand tightly in my own before taking off into the stairwell. Thank God, he was able to grab the bag of supplies again before we disappeared from the third flood.

I was running down the stairs so quickly that Negan nearly stumbled down each step, his heavy body not nearly moving fast enough to keep up with mine. "Stay with me, Negan!" I hissed, pulling on his harder. I hadn't been paying attention to what was in front of me, just the steps at my feet, because Negan let out a yell and a curse, making me snap my head up. 

Biters were filling the stairwell from ends, and we were trapped between the second and first floors. They were wearing bloodied and ragged hospital gowns, doctor's and nurse's scrubs. Some wore nothing at all. One in particular looked like he had died in the middle of a major surgical operation. Bile rose to my throat, and I would have thrown up if it weren't for the adrenaline pulsing through my veins, from the current situation Negan and I were both in.

"What the  _fuck_  are you waiting for?!  _Fucking shoot!_ " 

And I did. My finger pushed down hard on the trigger of my gun, and the weapon fired to life. I held onto it as tight as I could as it kicked back violently, bullets shooting out and tearing through the bodies of the biters in front of me. Puncturing chests, arms, necks, heads. I tried so hard to aim, but I was just firing away. 

_"Negan, what the fuck is going on? Where are you?"_

_"We're coming for you, boss!"_

Paula and Simon's voices came through on the radio, but I could barely make out their words from the noises of the dead, Negan bashing their heads in, and the volume of my gun. Negan and I stood back to back on two steps, trying to hold off both ends of the biters for as long as possible. 

"Oh, fuck!" I heard Negan shout, and I turned slightly to see that an incredibly large biter had reached for his jacket, holding onto it tightly and tugging him closer into the chaos we were caught up in. Lucille was slipping from Negan's grasp, and I let out a scream as he slipped off of his step, falling back and nearly knocking me down in the process. His body landed in the mess of biters coming from the first floor, and my adrenaline and actions kicked into overdrive. I aimed as best as I could, now taking out more than before. My heart pounded so hard in my chest that I could feel it in my throat, and my mind ached as I didn't know whether or not Negan okay. Whether he was dead or alive. I couldn't see him anymore, couldn't hear him. Dead.

Another gun began going off, then another, and another, and anther. Simon, Paula, Dominic, and Winnie had finally arrived and began taking out all of the biters that I was unable to reach. One by one, they fell heavily onto the stairs, surrounding me. I couldn't even see the steps anymore.

"Negan?!" I cried out, swinging my gun around on my shoulder so it wasn't in my way. I spotted Lucille laying in the gory mess and took it upon myself to grab her. For Negan. He would die, if he wasn't already dead, if he lost her. I skidded down the stairs, side-stepping biters when I could, and walking right over them when I couldn't. Simon ran forward, searching for his leader among the dead, while Paula and the two others kept watch in case any other biters decided to ruin our day even more. 

Shiny black leather finally caught my eye at the bottom of the steps, peeking out from heavy grey bodies. I threw myself down and struggled to remove the bodies, pulling at them, pushing them away so that I could get to him. I saw that his eyes were partially closed, and he was absolutely covered in thick blood. Nearly black, so I knew that what I was seeing wasn't his own. "Please, God, please be okay. Please don't be bit." I hadn't even noticed I was crying until my tears dripped down onto his jacket, splashing against the smooth fabric. Negan only groaned in pain, and let out a shaky cry, looking over at Simon for his help. He came over quickly, helping me to lift Negan up and away from the carnage. The two of us set him down in a cleared out area, and I found myself on the floor again, frantically unzipping his jacket, searching his arms and body for open wounds, bites, scratches. I took his face into my hands and looked him over, checking his head. Nothing. When my hands roamed over his legs to check for injuries, his body jolted and his eyes snapped open, his face twisting up in pain. 

"Son of a fuck, ow!" He cried out as my fingers brushed over his ankle. It didn't look broken, but it must had been sprained pretty badly. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I rushed out worriedly, ripping my hands away from him. "Are you bit anywhere? Do you feel any pain besides in your ankle?" I quickly asked, and Simon began to help Negan up into a semi-standing position. He wobbled slightly, trying his hardest not to put any pressure on his left ankle. 

"No. I don't think so." He mumbled out, and I grabbed the laundry bag of supplies before handing them off to Winnie who had appeared in the doorway.

"It's all clear out here, and it's a straight shot through the emergency room and to the trucks. We need to go now." She told us quickly, and Simon began leading Negan out of the stairwell. 

We made it back to the trucks quickly, and Simon helped Negan up into the back seat of the pickup truck. I instantly climbed into the back with him, not even speaking to the other four members of our group as I shut the door. I wasn't going to be driving, and I think they realized that. 

"Negan, I need to check you out." I sighed, wiping my eyes quickly to get rid of my tears. I then reached for him again, running my fingers over his face, his neck. I pulled his jacket open and pushed his t-shirt up his abdomen, letting my eyes search across his stomach and chest for bites or scratches.

"Baby."

There were no markings under his shirt, save for a few old scars. 

"Sweet girl, hey."

I went to push the jacket down his arms to look at them and check them over. Could a biter have bitten him through the leather?

"Carolina!"

I hadn't even noticed that we were moving. Negan's loud voice made my eyes snap up, and I spotted the trees moving past us out the window as we were back on one of the highways. Fingers clutched my chin, and I was forced to look down at Negan. 

"Relax, beautiful. I'm okay. Those mother fuckers can't kill me, you fucking know that. I'm too big and bad to die like that. My fate'll pan out with a bunch of explosions, and a shit ton of fire. I'll have a bad ass fucking death. I don't wanna be eaten alive. That fucking sucks." He masked his pain behind a chuckle, and I shook my head at his attempt at humor. 

"I couldn't find you, you were gone. I thought you were dead." I mumbled, staring down at him. I didn't know where all of this emotion was coming from. I had made it clear that I felt something toward the man below me. But did I feel for him enough to cry over him? I hadn't cried over a man since Anthony died in front of me. I couldn't feel that again, the loss of someone I cared about so deeply, the sadness that came from missing the person I depended on the most. I told myself that I would never make myself need a man ever again. But each day I spent with Negan, I found myself needing to see him more and more and more. I didn't need him in order to survive. Rather, I needed him because he saved me, gave me a chance to start my life over, to better myself and care for others again. I needed all of that. "I'm so sorry, this was all my fault. I let that biter in the elevator get to me, I made all of this happen." I rushed out.

"Sweetheart, none of this was your fault. We were fucked either way. Don't beat yourself up over a little sprained ankle." Negan shrugged and let go of my chin, moving his hand to my hair, smoothing it out. 

"I'm sorry I'm acting like this." I sighed and looked down at him. His jacket was disheveled from my actions, and his shirt still rode up sightly along his tummy, exposing that wonderful tanned skin and coarse dark hair. My lower stomach tingled at the muscles peeking out from behind his shirt, and I felt my cheeks blush. 

I felt his body rumble with laughter. "Oh, don't you worry your pretty little heart, sweet girl. It's adorable. Makes me fucking feel great, you caring about me and all. I appreciate it, I appreciate  _you_. And I don't appreciate many people in this world."

I smiled shyly and bit the inside of my cheek, oblivious to Paula staring at the two of us through the rear view mirror as she drove us home. 

"But,"

I held my breath.

"You are not coming on a run this far from home ever again. If you think you're acting ridiculous because of me getting hurt," he laughed, pointing to his chest, "You can't even fathom how bat-shit crazy this motherfucker'd be if that was you, baby girl."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 02.05.18
> 
> Not my fav chapter but it’s a transition/filler chapter. Enjoy (:
> 
> (UNEDITED)
> 
> ‘Revelation’ moodboards: https://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**OUR TRIP TO** the hospital had been for nothing. The six hours spent driving there and back, the wasted gas. Negan and I potentially being killed in that stairwell. It was all for nothing. When Negan, Simon, Dominic, Paula, Winnie, and I arrived back home to the Sanctuary, Stanley met us at the front gates, wearing a blank facial expression. When he noticed that Negan was injured, he stepped forward and helped us to help Negan inside and to the infirmary, where he would later look over Negan's ankle. Jacqueline was folding hospital bed sheets and putting IV supplies away when Stanley, Negan, and I entered the infirmary.

  
"Where the fuck is Fiona?" Negan wondered aloud, and I felt my heart sink deep in my chest. Stanley and I lowered Negan's body down onto one of the beds before Jacqueline shared a sad look with her husband. Neither of them said a word, and by this, I instantly knew what the unfortunate circumstances were.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Negan sighed, leaning his head back against the pillow and rubbing his face, breathing out heavily into his palms.

"Stanley, she was okay this morning. What the hell happened when we were gone? I thought she was going to make it with the antibiotics." I let out a shaky breath, and Simon wandered into the room, dropping the few bags of supplies we managed to scavenge onto the floor. His eyes searched through the tension and sadness hanging heavily in the room, and when he realized what was going on, he let out a small "shit," shaking his head.

The doctor crossed his arms over his chest and glanced at each of us warily. "Her fever spiked rapidly right after you all left for the hospital. It happened so quickly, there really wasn't anything I could have done to help her. She just faded away, and then she turned." He explained solemnly. Negan sat up quickly, not even wincing when the motion hurt his ankle.

"She turned? I thought you said you fucking took care of everything when you chopped her fucking foot off!" His voice boomed through the room, and I flinched at the intensity of his voice.

Stanley blinked quickly, obviously trying to come up with a good excuse for Fiona dying without angering his leader further. "N-Negan, we don't have the proper medical equipment here, you know that. I did the best I could with the tools I had, and I did as much as possible to save her life."

"But you didn't, you fuck. _You killed her,_ you chopped off her fucking leg and you killed her." Negan seethed, moving to get up from his place on the bed.

"Negan, stop." I placed my hand on his bicep, trying to get him to lay back down, but he only reached out to push me away.

"How am I supposed to protect my people with a stupid son of a bitch like you? You let one of my fucking women die after telling her and everyone else that she was going to make it out of all of this fucking shit perfectly fine. I don't fucking tolerate liars in my god damn house, Stanley. I won't put up with that shit for one fucking second." He had grasped Stanley by the front of his shirt, balling the fabric up in his fist as he spoke the words clearly.

"Come on, Negan, leave the guy alone. He's doing the best he can." Simon complained, clearly annoyed. But Negan wouldn't stop. He continued to curse at, berate, and degrade the poor doctor, but soon enough, I had had enough of it.

My body pushed between Stanley and Negan, forcing the more intimidating man away from the other. "Shut up! Just knock it the fuck off, Negan! Stanley can't bring Fiona back from the fucking dead, so stop beating him up over it. She's dead. He did everything in his power to keep her alive, but she's dead." He looked absolutely enraged with me, his face twisted up in anger as he listened to me talk at him, defending the kinder man. It was like he almost couldn't believe it, someone else going against him and trying to take control of the situation. "So sit the fuck down, let him look at your ankle, and then you can go upstairs and cry about all your problems for the rest of the night." I finished, forcefully pushing him back down onto the bed as he stared at me in disbelief.

Negan didn't say another word. Jacqueline stood there in the middle of the room, awkwardly still before she decided to rush forward, grab the supply bags, and empty them out. She began sorting medications and supplies out, quietly keeping to herself as Simon left the infirmary, and Stanley began to assess Negan's injury. I stood there silently, arms folded against my chest as I looked on. Negan sat there, still dumbfounded and annoyed with my outburst against him. He would wince and flinch as Stanley poked and prodded at him, and I felt myself smirk when Stanley purposefully pressed down too hard against Negan's ankle, eliciting a "you motherfucker," from Negan's lips.

As of right now, his ankle was declared sprained. Not broken, just sprained. Stanley told Negan to keep an eye on it and to see if it began to bruise up over time, an indication that it could be broken. After wrapping his ankle up tightly, giving him a pair of crutches, and placing a bottle of Advil into my hands, Stanley sent us both away, bidding us good evening and demanding that the two of us get some rest. Even thought I hadn't been physically hurt, I was still drained from today's trip and the battle that took place during it.

It took some time for Negan and I to get up to the forth floor, since he had to favor his ankle and not place too much pressure on it. When we got to his room, I went to go make up the couch for him, but he stopped me with a wave of his hand.

"I need a shower, I'm stinkin' to high hell." He chuckled and placed the crutches against the wall, then continued toward his bedroom. "Go and get yourself cleaned up, doll. I'll be waitin' here for ya." Negan shot me a small smile before shutting his bedroom door.

I stood there for a few moments before finally realizing that he wasn't mad at me for blowing up on him down in the infirmary. At least, he didn't show it. My eyes wandered over to the pair of crutches leaning against the wall, and I let it a small sigh.

My small bathroom was filled with muggy air and hot steam as I stood under the incredibly hot spray of the shower. Dirt, sweat, and rotting biter flesh and blood were carried away by the water, and I watched as murky colors collected on the shower floor before disappearing down the drain. I was finally able to find a time of peace, as I stood here in the shower, eyes closed and breathing gently. The hot water relaxes my muscles, burning my skin in the best way possible as the spray tainted my skin a deep pink. My muscles were sore from the fight I put up, from killing biter after biter on that treacherous stairwell. My mind was fatigued from the constant thoughts of Negan being dead, seriously hurt or injured. While on the three hours car ride home, I held onto his body, hands touching his arms, his hands, his legs as he laid in the back seat of the pickup truck.

_“Are you still okay?” I’d asked, glancing down at him partially in my lap._

_“I’m still okay, Carolina.” He grinned, pressing his fingers into the palm of my hand. I gave his fingers a firm squeeze and nodded my head._

_“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Negan asked me, eyes knitting together in concern. I kept insisting that I was fine, that I hadn’t been attacked by any of the biters in the hospital._

_“I’m sure.”_

But I nearly scared myself to death when I pulled the shower curtains back after shutting off the water. My naked body was blurred in the fogged up mirror, but I could see a particularly large, deep purple bruise forming on my left side. I quickly wiped the condensation away from the mirror to find that the skin hadn’t been broken, and I let out a heavy sigh, thanking God that it was just a bruise. Just a damn bruise. I hadn’t even noticed how painful it was until I noticed it.

I took my time changing into a pair of leggings, a warm sweater, and wool socks that instantly heated my quickly cooling toes. My hair was still damp when I left my room for Negan’s.

He was sitting at his desk, shuffling through his many maps and documents when I quietly stepped through the door. He was wearing a pair of his signature dark pants, the upper half of his tanned body bare for me to see. He hasn’t noticed me walk into the room until I came up beside him, placing a hand on his arm, and he jumped at my sudden presence. His surprise was quickly replaced by a comfortable smile, warm eyes lifting up to my own.

“Hello, sweetheart,” that smooth, yet so rough voice spoke and and found my cheeks blushing in response.

“Let me wrap your ankle. You need to keep it compressed.” I mumbled, pulling him up from the desk chair. Negan let out a grumble as I seated him on the couch, and he tossed me the wrap that Stanley had given him.

“I can do that, you know.” His eyes were fixed on my hands as I unraveled the fabric, and I took a seat on the coffee table in front of him, lifting his leg and resting his foot in my lap.

“I’d beg to differ. I’m ninety-nine percent sure you know nothing about taking care of injuries.” I scoffed, sliding his pant leg up and carefully situating the wrap around his door and ankle.

“You forgot I was a gym teacher? And that I coached boy’s high school baseball?” He quirked an eyebrow at me, causing me to raise my own.

“You never said anything about coaching high school baseball.” I tightened the warp around his ankle, making him wince.

“Varsity, baby. Fucking led those little fucks to states five times. Coach fucking Negan.” He raises a fist in the air and I let out a laugh, shaking my head.

“Yeah, okay, well. I’m a nurse. Was a nurse. I went to school for five god damn years for this, and had thousands of dollars in student loans to pay off, just for the world to go and end not too soon after. So shut up and let me wrap your damn ankle.” I tightened the wrap again, just about finishing up.

Negan’s eyes roamed my face, locked with my eyes momentarily before trailing down my body and stopping at my hands. He seemed to be so entranced with my movement, my slender fingers working quickly as I went, but not rushing. He kept his mouth shut for the rest of my work on him, and when I was done, he cleared his throat.

“I really fucked up today, and I won’t let anything like that happen again.”

I looked up after carefully dropping his foot back down, just to reach forward and grab a couch pillow to prop his leg back up again on the coffee table.

“You didn’t fuck up. There was nothing to fuck up. What happened wasn’t your fault, and even if it was, just look at us. We’re home, we’re fine. We’re alive.” I told him gently, shrugging my shoulders.

“It was fucking foolish for me to bring us to a place so far away. God forbid I didn’t survive, God forbid you didn’t. We wouldn’t have gotten the help we needed from others, we were too far.” His voice was laced with guilt and I let out a sigh.

“You needed to go there, Negan. To have closure, to see Lucille one last time. You needed to be there and to face that room in order to move on. You can move on, and you will.” I stood up from the coffee table and took a seat next to him on the couch.

“I want to help you, Negan.”

He was staring straight ahead, watching the lone picture that hung on the otherwise bare wall. Lucille was looking back at Negan, her eyes wide and full of life, that smile almost lifting my own lips up as well.

“You can try.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted 2.25.17
> 
> HELLO!!!!!!!  
> So sorry for the slight disappearance. I’ve been again crazy busy with family matters and college decision stuff. 
> 
> Here’s a new update in honor of the premiere of season 8B! I’m so freaking ready for more Negan (;
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!  
> —  
> Revelation moodboards: http://lumoslucille.tumblr.com

**THE SUN WAS** a blindingly bright orb hanging high above the earth. You'd be able to tell that there wasn't one cloud in the sky, if it weren't for the rays casting down on the landscape. I still hadn't invested in a pair of sunglasses from the marketplace, and it was May. I usually never had time to wander around spending my points on luxuries such as eye protection. My days were spent tending to the gardens outside, kneeling over plants and vines, red juicy tomatoes, hot and mild peppers, giant carrots growing within the soil. Once the winter's snow melted away and the temperature rose, I took it upon myself to better the Sanctuary's garden. I had learned that Fiona once was the woman with the green thumb here, caring for and tending to the fruits and vegetables. But, since she was gone, the community agreed to let me have at it.

It was time consuming, and I was always ecstatic to be able to head inside when the pruning and harvesting was done, but I spent most of my other time accompanying the rest of the Saviors on supply runs. That, and spending time with my new family. The Sanctuary had tripled in size within the past six months, as there were nearly two hundred of us now. Old and young, people from all walks of life. Negan brought so many people together under one roof for their protection, and the Sanctuary was absolutely thriving. With the help of Simon and a newer kid named Dwight, Negan came up with a special system in which people worked in exchange for points. They did patrols, kept up the building, made up janitorial staffs, worked in the kitchen. The Sanctuary was quickly becoming less of just a camp, and more of a hidden city, industrializing more and more each day.

It concerned me just how much power Negan was beginning to reign over the rest of the Sanctuary. It was still kind to his people, but intimidating and a hardass when things didn't go his way. His demeanor and vulgarity kept the Saviors and lower-class citizens in line, and by now, no one would ever think to go against his word.

I was fortunate enough to be an exception, along with Simon and Dwight. The three of us continued to earn points but working throughout the Sanctuary, completing projects and meeting expectations set by Negan. Many a time, Negan would try to persuade me to not work at all.

"You don't gotta be like everyone else, Carolina. You know that you don't need to fucking word hard to please me." He'd said one day as I walked out of my bedroom and into my living area, hair dripping wet from a shower. It was the end of winter, and I had been working most of the day outside, cleaning out the gardens that needed to be prepped for the spring.

"I know I don't have to work. But I want to. I don't want to be thought of as different, I deserve just as much as the others."

"But you already know that they hold you to high standard. You work alongside Simon and I. If they look at you the wrong way, they know they're getting a fucking punishment." His arms wrapped around my waist when I sat down on the couch next to him.

Our friendship had blossomed over the past six months. Negan was my best friend, my companion. Not only did I hold intense feelings for him deep inside of my heart, but I looked up to him and respected him. He was the one consistent entity in my life since the day he saved me from those biters in that abandoned town. I knew every detail about his life, and he almost knew every detail about mine. When he held me and kissed me, though, in my mind I knew that this was so much more than a best friendship. Negan ignited a fire inside of me that I hadn't felt in years, and each day, I craved more and more.

"You have a job," I pointed out to him, running my fingertips along his forearm. "You work harder than anyone here, so let me work, too."

Reluctantly, he did. At first Negan would have people supervise me, either from up close or from afar, just to make sure I didn't get myself into any trouble. But why would I? I had been a nurse before the world ended and worked my ass off twelve hours every single day. When Negan learned that working was what I needed to keep myself entirely sane, he backed off, letting me do what I wanted and when I wanted to.

My tanned skin burned under the hot May sun, and I sat back on my thighs to brush the back of my hand across my forehead, wiping away the perspiration. Summer was going to be absolutely brutal this year, that much could be gathered from the intense mid-May heat. We'd survive it, though. Negan's people had survived together for a long time before I arrive, and with our exponentially growing numbers, surviving would get even easier. I reached for my water bottle and took a long sip, disappointed when my tongue met warm water. God dammit.

"Hey, Carolina!" Shouted a voice coming from my right, and I smiled instantly.

"Hi, Patrick." I brushed my dirtied hands across my jeans. "Damn, kid, didn't I tell you to get a haircut yesterday?"

The fifteen year old's blonde hair hung messily across his forehead, growing over his ears, and ultimately making him look shaggy. Deep dimples carved into his cheeks and he let out a small laugh.

"I told you I don't have enough points for that. And I quite like my new do, it kinda suits me, don't you think?"

I motioned for him to come closer to me, and once he dipped his head down to get level with me on the ground, I reached up and messily roughed up his hair, giving him a little playful shove.

"Come on, get to work. Emily needs a whole bunch of carrots for tonight." I pointed to the dirt in front of me, and Patrick crouched down next to me, setting his basket between us. The two of us worked together in silence, digging into the warm soil and plucking at the green stems, pulling carrots up and depositing them in the basket.

"You know, I used to cut my kids' hair." I told him quietly, brushing lumps of dirt from the orange vegetables. "I can do yours if you'd like me to. I don't mind at all." I glanced over to the teenager next to me, and he shyly smiled.

"You'd really do that?" He asked and I instantly nodded.

"Of course I would, kiddo. I'd do anything for you. You know that." I smiled. Patrick grinned, his dimples deepening and cheeks blushing in content. He quickly reached over and hugged me tightly, and I let out a small laugh and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, patting his head.

A deep laugh suddenly rumbled from behind us, and butterflies immediately erupted in the pit of my stomach.

"Patty boy, there anything I can do for you?"

Patrick swallowed nervously and pulled away from me, shaking his head and looking down at the basket of freshly-picked carrots between us. "No sir, just doing today's work." He spoke confidently, and I peered up at the figure looming over us.

"Keepin' my lady company when I'm gone? Keepin' her nice and warm for me, Patty?" I could visibly hear the smirk in her voice, and I felt myself grin.

"Fuck off, Negan." I laughed, rising from my kneeling position on the group. He had his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, his large, tanned arms contrasting against a crisp white T-shirt. It was a rarity seeing Negan out without his signature leather jacket, but as it was hotter than hell outside, I could understand why he opted out of wearing it. Negan pulled his hands out of his pockets and raised them out, gesturing for a hug, which I easily accepted. My body fit like a puzzle piece against his, my arms hanging low around his slender waist as his own folded behind my back.

“Patrick, you can take everything we picked back to the kitchens for Emily to sort out.” I turned my head, smiling at the teenager who blushed uncomfortably at Negan and I. I could understand his reaction at seeing Negan turned into an absolute ball of mush. “Don’t worry about anything else today. Go on home to your sister.”

“Really?” Patrick asked warily, his eyes shifting back and forth from me to Negan. I nodded confidently and noticed Negan’s careful eyes trained on me. He didn’t enjoy it when I took matters into my own hands, didn’t enjoy it when I took charge of his workers.

“Of course. It’s a million degrees out here. Oh, and after dinner I want you to come up to my room. I’ll give you a haircut, okay?”

Patrick nodded quickly and couldn’t help but smile. “Okay. Thank you, Carolina.” He grabbed the basket of carrots next to his knees and scrambled up, coming face to face with Negan.

The older man smugly smirked down at the teenager. “Have yourself a jolly ole afternoon there, Patty boy.” He winked, and I swear to god, Patrick may have shit himself.

“Y-You too, Negan. Mr. Negan, sir.”

He sped off like a bat out of hell.

Strong arms tightened around my body and I glanced up at the towering man against me. “You need to stop playing the boss, sweetheart.” Negan’s voice was seriously cold, and to be honest, it would have scared me if it were six and a half months ago. If I hadn’t known what Negan’s true intentions as a man and a leader were. But the longer I knew him, the more I knew how much he would do and how far he would go to protect me and keep me by his side.

“Didn’t you say that people should answer to me, as well? That no one should questions a word I say?” I smirked and ran my hands up his back, across his shoulders and up his neck. They eventually rested at his cheeks, and I held his rough face in my hands.

“That I did.” Negan mumbled out, feeling slightly defeated, and I felt myself smile even wider.

“That you did.” I nodded and placed a short kiss on Negan’s lips.

“I want you to be nice to Patrick.” I said as I pulled away from his embrace, turning to clean up my work space and to get ready to head back inside. “He’s a good kid, and he has no one but his little sister. And he doesn’t have a crush on me, so—“

“Oh, yes he fucking does.” Negan howled with laughter, slapping his thigh in amusement. “I know what it’s like to swoon over a woman. I definitely know what it feels like to stare at a woman’s ass and tits. And let me tell ya, sweetpea: you got them.”

My jaw dropped at Negan’s blunt confession. My mind wanted to cry at the thought of cute little Patrick checking me out. Innocent, adorable, young Patrick. I leaned down and picked up a fist full of dirt from the garden, hurling it at Negan’s chest.

He partially dodged my line of fire and held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Now get inside and shower, Paul Mitchell. You fucking smell, and you’ve got a hair appointment at six.”


End file.
